


Metamorphosis

by RobertCop3



Category: King of Fighters
Genre: Blood and Violence, Boarding School, Friendship, Growing Up, Major Original Character(s), Origin Story, Orphans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 83,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23176777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobertCop3/pseuds/RobertCop3
Summary: The year is 1996. A hungry young orphan "caterpillar" with nowhere else to go enters a very special school, and seven years later, a deadly "butterfly" emerges from that chrysalis of dark knowledge to find her place in the world... and a name of her own. Rated T for the time being, but that might be subject to change.
Kudos: 2





	1. The Girl Named Melanie

This is an idea that came to me very suddenly while chatting with fellow KoF fans in Discord: an “origin story” for the character of Malin. Honestly, I surprised myself with how quickly this idea took shape in outlines and just started snowballing. The reason I'm so shocked is because I honestly don't like this character. I never have. I've always viewed Malin as a spiteful little bug with a bag of toys, someone who is little more than a walking gimmick. But bugs remind me of fourth grade biology class, and I've always been a science nerd.

So if I have to guess, I'd say my dislike filled me with an urge to dissect her? Whatever the reason, I'm writing an origin story for a character I don't like. And I've actually enjoyed writing it. As I've shaped her character and her journey in my outlines, I'm a little shocked at how much sympathy I've developed for her. So I am very excited to share this story with you all.

This fic covers a seven-year period, starting when Malin is ten years old and ending in the year 2003 when she's seventeen, the same year she first competes in KoF. I don't yet know how many chapters it will be, but it might wind up being longer than “Vengeful Spirits.” We'll just have to wait and see. As with everything I write, feedback is welcome.

Rated T for now, but that might change as the story progresses. We'll just have to wait and see. Sometimes we think we're writing these characters, but then they'll start writing themselves. ( ;

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the anime. “Nutshell” is written by Layne Staley, Jerry Cantrell, Sean Kinney, and Mike Inez, and is copyright Columbia Records. I'm posting this fic for free, and make no money off of it.

* * *

_We... chase misprinted lies  
We... face the path of time  
And yet I fight  
And yet I fight  
This battle all alone  
No one to cry to  
No place to call home_

  
  


_My... gift of self is raped  
My... privacy is raked  
And yet I find  
And yet I find  
Repeating in my head  
If I can't be my own  
I'd feel better dead_

-Alice in Chains

  
  


_Chapter One: The Girl Named Melanie_

**South Town, USA – August 2004**

“Malin...”

_TRUST YOU?! Why the fuck should I trust you?_

“Malin...”

_Sorry, but... I'm probably gonna make a mess now..._

“Malin...”

_No! No more of your bullshit! Just tell me... WHO AM I?_

“Malin...” Kasumi Todoh gently nudged the blond girl who had been writhing and thrashing on the twin bed for the last few minutes, but she still got no response. The girl who called herself Malin groaned through clenched teeth, her furrowed brow dripping with sweat, her eyelids open just wide enough for Kasumi to see the white orbs underneath flicking rapidly in whatever direction they could.

Finally, Kasumi realized that being gentle would accomplish nothing. “Malin!” She shouted, giving her teammate a more forceful nudge. As if someone had lit a fire beneath her, Malin sat bolt upright with a yell, left hand reaching out to grip the fabric of Kasumi's blue and white yukata, while her right hand, which had been tucked under her pillow, came up just as quickly, wrapped around the handle of a rather wicked-looking knife. She made it halfway to Kasumi's neck with the blade before she seemed to realize where she was, then she blew out a sharp breath as she lowered her weapon.

“Oh, it's you,” she muttered, releasing her grip on her teammate. “You shouldn't startle me like that. I might do something we'd both regret.” Malin ran a hand through her shoulder-length blond hair, her dark brown eyes flicking around the hotel room she shared with her teammate. She was at another King of Fighters tournament, this time on a team with Kasumi Todoh and the ninja Eiji Kisaragi. Malin had no idea where _he_ was right now. When she and Kasumi had purchased this room, Eiji had declined to go in on it (just as well, since the staff might have raised some eyebrows if a guy in a mask went in on a room with two teenage girls), but he also didn't get his own room, so damned if they knew what he was up to. Malin was honestly starting to wonder if he even slept. In the weeks leading up to the tournament, when the three had practiced together, she'd certainly never seen him blink.

Kasumi, a little put off by the silence, sat down on the edge of her own twin bed, hands resting on her knees. “Forgive me, but... I was trying to sleep, and you... looked like you were having a nightmare.”

Malin shook her head, took a moment to smooth out the oversized brown T-shirt she wore as part of her sleepwear, pulling it down to cover as much as of her legs as she could. “Nah... just old ghosts coming out to play. They do that some nights. Bugs the hell out of me.” She rose from her bed and moved over to the bathroom, flicking the light on as she entered. Through the open doorway, Kasumi could see her running the tap at the sink, throwing cold water on her face. After a minute, she turned the tap off, dabbed herself dry with a hand towel, and came back to her bed. “Of course,” she added as she picked up her knife and tucked it back under her pillow. “You do know that we wouldn't be having this problem if you'd let me swipe that bottle of wine earlier. If I fall asleep with a drink or two inside me, the ghosts leave me alone.”

“I know, Malin-san,” Kasumi said. “But you promised not to do anything illegal while we're competing. The team would be disqualified if you got caught.”

“I wouldn't get caught.”

“Well, it's still not good to rely on something like alcohol to help you sleep peacefully. It's not... healthy.”

Malin snorted. “Wow, mom, I had no idea!”

Kasumi rolled her eyes in frustration. She and Malin had some common ground (hence the reason for their teaming up), but she still knew so little about the blond girl, even though Kasumi liked to think they'd gelled nicely as a team in the last several weeks. Malin always refused to talk about herself, and when asked questions, would quickly steer the conversation in other directions.

“Look... Kasumi...” There was a serious edge to Malin's voice that brought the aikido warrior's gaze back to her again. Malin sat pretzel-legged in the center of her mattress, eying Kasumi with something that almost looked like concern. “I... think that you and I are... well, lemme start over. I... sort of like...” She gave a growl of frustration, then blurted out: “Listen, Kasumi, I don't hate you, okay? But there's... things about me you should never know.”

The dark-haired girl's brow furrowed with confusion. “Why shouldn't I know them?”

“It's just... safer for you to not know this stuff.”

Now Kasumi was just a little suspicious. Even though they worked well together, she knew enough about Malin to know the girl was definitely self-centered. Or so she thought. “You know I can take care of myself. Why do you suddenly care for my safety?”

Malin rolled her eyes. “Because I don't hate you! Weren't you listening? You're making this so difficult right now, you know that?”

Kasumi laughed a little at that, rolling her own eyes. “My apologies, Malin-san.”

Malin also gave a small chuckle, in spite of herself. “Lucky for you, I'm in a good mood, so I'll let it slide,” she said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Kasumi smiled over at the blonde. “And also... I don't hate you, either.”

Another chuckle. “Yeah, whatever.”

The dark-haired girl rose from her bed. “I can't sleep right now. I'm going out to the terrace to meditate.”

Her teammate waved a dismissive hand. “Have fun.”

Kasumi moved to the sliding door, opened it, and stepped outside, sliding it shut behind her. After she was gone, the girl who called herself Malin lay back down on her bed, head resting on her pillow, gazing up at the ceiling, watching the revolving motion of the overhead fan, trying her best not to close her eyes, for fear of dreaming old dreams...

  
  


**Fresno, California. Fresno Police Department, 23 rd Precinct. Eight years ago...**

****It had been a long day for Detective Jeff Rabin, longer than most. He should have clocked out two hours ago, and been home by now, vegging out in front of the TV with a bag of In N' Out take-out, and an ice-cold beer. Instead, he found himself conversing with a stiff, matriarchal-looking woman in a light brown overcoat, seated on the other side of his desk with her legs crossed smartly. The hem of her coat rode up past her ankles enough for the detective to see her expensive-looking alligator-skin heels. Her shoulder-length, honey-blond hair was done up in a smart bun, and a brown attache case rested on her lap. Despite the comfortable leather back of the chair she sat in, her posture remained rigid.

“Who did you say you work for again, miss...”

“Landy,” the woman said. “Joan Landy. And I work for the Clemency Organization.” She whipped out a business card from the pocket of her coat, embossed in a manner more professional than Rabin's own cards, and reached over the disorganized desk to hand it to him. “We specialize in helping unique young women realize their full potential. And this girl you've brought in is truly unique.”

Rabin took the card, gave it a once-over, and then tossed it onto his desk with a shrug. “No more or less than any of the other delinquents I've picked up in my career.”

Joan leaned forward in the seat. “I beg to differ, detective. You told me you picked her up off the roof of a supermarket. She was fiddling with their electrical system, and her reason for this was, according to your report, so she could take out their alarms and surveillance cameras, in order to steal food. That hardly sounds like your average juvenile delinquent, especially one who is only ten years old.”

Rabin leaned forward in his own seat. “Assuming you're right... this is not the first time I've picked her up for something like this. And she's now old enough to be tried in the juvenile courts in this state. Why should I just forgive, forget, and hand her to you?”

“Obviously, to make your own life easier, you overworked public servant! I am willing to take her under my wing, and off your hands. That's less paperwork for you, and also, you can focus more time and effort to put _real_ criminals away, not just poor unfortunate children looking for something to eat!”

Detective Rabin flicked his eyes up to the ceiling for a moment. Then he took a sip of his coffee. “Okay, you have a point. But before you decide to take her, you should probably meet her.”

Joan nodded, rose from her chair with attache case in hand. “I'd be delighted.”

The detective led her out of his office and down a hallway that was still bustling with activity given the late hour. As they walked, Rabin continued to fill Joan in on the history of his latest arrest: “Like I said, this isn't the first time she's done something like this. She's got a longer history than someone her age should have: breaking and entering, pickpocketing and numerous other instances of theft, assault... she's developed a knack for electronics, picking locks, cutting glass... don't know who's teaching her, because she won't say.”

To Rabin's surprise, Joan's face appeared to light up as he relayed all this information. “Really?”

The detective nodded. “Yup. Been bounced around a lot from foster home to foster home. We're trying to contact her current guardian, but he's not answering the phone. Asked the girl about it, she said something about how he took a trip to Mexico, and she was hungry, so she decided to go shopping.”

The middle-aged woman's expression turned more sour. “Hm... seems the child welfare system in this state is as shining as it ever was. They'll let _anyone_ adopt, won't they?”

Rabin did not know what to say to that, and it had been a long day, so he merely shrugged. “Well, look... it's fair to warn you that I've already contacted every orphanage in the county. None of them want her back. Seems she's got some behavioral problems: doesn't listen, thinks the rules don't apply to her, mouths off to the other kids a lot, _and_ the adults. So... if she doesn't wanna go with you and we can't reach the dad, I'm gonna have to toss her in Juvie until a trial date can be arranged.”

“I see.” After this, the two became silent until they arrived at the holding cells.Though several of them were packed with as many as five to ten people, there was one cell towards the back which contained a lone occupant: a petite girl with bright blond hair dressed in torn, muddy jeans and an equally tattered sweatshirt that seemed a size too big on her. Her face was streaked with as much dirt as her clothes, and she did not appear to be wearing shoes. Her knees were tucked up under her chin, arms wrapped around her shins, and the expression in her dark brown eyes appeared to be one of boredom as her gaze swept the other cells.

“Not much to look at, I know,” Rabin remarked. “Nothing in her pockets except a BIC lighter, a few bucks in assorted loose change, some pieces of bent metal that we suspect are lockpicks, and a Swiss army knife with a blade so dull it can't even cut butter. And yet she was working that alarm system like a pro.”

Once more, Joan's face seemed to light up at hearing that. “Fascinating. Well, may I speak with her?”

The detective nodded, and the two made their way down the center aisle towards the cell in the back. Upon hearing their footsteps, the girl turned her gaze towards the cell entrance. She obviously recognized the detective, but regarded Joan with a hint of curiosity that was gone just as quickly as it appeared. Joan assumed that the girl probably thought the elder woman was a lawyer, because she stuck her tongue out at them both, and then resumed watching the other cells.

“I'd like to go in there with her, if that's okay,” said Joan.

Rabin turned his head towards the door they'd entered from, called out to a guard standing by a control panel. “Hey, Vickers! Open number two!” The guard slipped his key into the panel, turned it, pressed a button, and the iron-barred door slid open.

Rabin remained outside, blocking the doorway. Joan stepped into the cell and stood in front of the ragged blond girl, blocking her view of the other cells. “Hello there, sweetheart,” she said a in a cheerful voice that sounded like it was routine for her. “My name is Joan. I'm not with the police, and I'm not with the foster care system in the state. Do you have a name?”

Those deep brown eyes met Joan's blue, and the woman almost felt like she was being studied. After a moment, the girl spoke: “Um... Melanie.”

“That's a pretty name. Is there a last name?”

“Yeah, but it's fake dad's last name, not mine, so I don't use it.”

“Well, I can't say I blame you for that, Melanie. May I sit next to you, dear?”

Melanie shrugged. “It's a free country.”

“Thank you,” Joan said with a pleasant smile, and sat down next to the girl, resting her case on her lap. “Now, Melanie, I'm just curious. Detective Rabin told me what you were doing when he picked you up. What made you think to try and disable the alarms at that grocery store? Most young girls wouldn't have been as clever as you were.”

Another indifferent shrug. “Because the last time I tried to steal from them, the alarm went off when I smashed their window. So in order to get in without being noticed, I'd have to take out their alarms, wouldn't I?”

To Rabin's surprise, Joan seemed to take on a look of pride. “Very logical, Melanie. And... where did you learn how to tamper with alarm systems?”

“Dunno. I've just... always been good at tampering with electric stuff. I figure it out pretty easily.”

“Fascinating... much like a young Mozart could look at sheet music and just... understand it.”

“Dunno who that is,” Melanie said.

“Well, you'll have an opportunity to learn, if you choose. Like I said, Melanie, I'm not with the police or foster care. I run a school out of state that I think would be perfect for a brilliant young mind like yours, so I'm offering you the chance to come with me, if you'd like.”

The lady seemed nice, putting Melanie on the defensive. She'd seen friendly faces before on her deadbeat foster moms, whenever they told police or social services what they wanted to hear. “Why would you wanna help me? What's in it for you?”

“Nothing except the chance to help you realize your full potential. You're a special girl, Melanie. Surely you've always known that about yourself.”

Melanie shrugged. “Not really.”

Joan's smile grew wider. “Well, it's true. These things you know how to do are what make you special. This is probably why you have trouble getting along with other children: you can't relate to them because you're better than they are.Well, there are other girls at my school, Melanie, who have skills like yours. They're learning how to hone them, along with many other skills that will be useful in their lives. I'm offering you the same opportunity, to learn things that will actually be useful to _you_ as you grow into a woman, and find your place in the world.”

She could tell by the look on Melanie's face that the girl was considering it. Melanie had never given much thought to the future, focusing all her attention on the present, on surviving. That could only take her so far. She _would_ need to learn some new tricks, and how to do old tricks better, to keep surviving as she got older. And also the woman was right. Melanie liked to think she _was_ better than a lot of the other kids at the orphanage, even though she was shorter.

Joan was on her feet again, offering a hand to the blond girl. “You don't _have_ to come with me if you don't want to, Melanie. Just know that Detective Rabin has called every orphanage in the area, and none of them are willing to take you in, so your only other option would be Juvenile Hall. But again, the choice is yours.”

 _Not exactly a choice. But still, this school could be interesting._ Wasting no more time on thought, she reached up and took Joan's hand. “Okay. I'll go with you.”

“Splendid!” Joan Landy said with a laugh. “I'll begin making the arrangements with the police at once! Um, Detective, does she have to wait in the cell? It seems rather barbaric. I'd like to bring her along with us, if that's all right.”

The detective, still standing in the doorway, shrugged. “Why not? She's _your_ problem now, as far as I'm concerned. She causes any more trouble while she's here, you're paying for it.”

“Of course,” Joan said in her most amicable voice. “Come along, dear. Let's get out of this dreadful room.” And so, the two of them walked hand-in-hand out of the holding cell area, following Detective Rabin back to his office.

 _Besides,_ Melanie thought to herself as she walked. _If I don't like it there, I can just run away. Like I always do._

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

  
  


So, I researched the juvenile courts in California a little bit. As of 2019, the minimum age for trying a minor in said courts is 12, but I don't think there was a minimal age before that. So, in 1996, Melanie could have been tried in juvenile court as a ten-year-old.

  
  


And I know KoF XI came out in 2005, but I moved it up a year, because in my fic timeline, the KoF Tournament is an annual event.

  
  


And with that, the story is underway. Hope you like so far, and I also hope to have more up soon.


	2. The Briefcase

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime.

* * *

_Chapter Two:The Briefcase_

Several hours later, Melanie still did not have the urge to run away, despite the fact that she was bored out of her skull as Joan worked things out with the police department, making Melanie's juvenile charges disappear, and also arranging to take the girl for the night. Tomorrow, there would be a more formal custody hearing in front of a judge. The fact that Joan somehow arranged _that_ so quickly earned her some slight admiration from Melanie. Unlike most of the adults she'd met, Ms. Landy clearly knew how to get things done.

Case in point, after Melanie had been sitting in the detective's office for about an hour, looking bored while Joan made arrangements with Rabin, the matriarch happened to glance over at the barefoot girl and ask her: “Melanie, dear, has anyone fed you since you got here?”

“No, ma'am,” Melanie replied.

Joan turned her eyes back to Rabin, her gaze seeming to pierce his skull. “Explain.”

The detective was definitely taken aback. “Well, we've been busy, as you can see, and...”

“Use your head, detective,” Joan snapped in a tone suggesting that Rabin was a total idiot for not already knowing what she was saying. “You pick up a girl trying to break into a supermarket because she wants food, and it sounds like she had none in her house. The poor child is obviously starving.” Again, she turned towards Melanie, who was clearly enjoying the show. “Melanie, when did you last eat something?”

“Uh, yesterday afternoon, ma'am.”

“And what was it?”

“Um... pack of sugar and some peanut butter smeared on a playing card.” A half-truth. Melanie _had_ eaten peanut butter, just not off a card, but she decided it would be more fun to twist the knife for her oppressor.

The older woman clenched her teeth, blew out a hissing breath of exasperation. “And you didn't even think to _feed_ her, detective?”

“Well, we... don't have a cafeteria here,” Rabin tried to explain, though he was withering under both Joan's gaze, and the look of obvious pleasure from Melanie.

“Well, you must have _something_ ,” Joan insisted.

“Uh... we've got vending machines in the break rooms.”

Another exasperated breath. “Fine.” Joan pulled a sizable wad of cash from one of the pockets in her coat, drew out five singles, and handed them to the raggedly-dressed girl. “Here, sweetheart. Go get yourself something from the vending machines. Detective, is there an officer who can escort her? You and I still have work to do.”

Rabin rolled his eyes, but in the end, he gestured to a patrolman he saw milling about through the window that looked out into the hallway. The man took Melanie to the nearest break room, where she purchased a bag of Andy Capp hot fries, a Snickers bar, and a can of Dr. Pepper. She actually let the officer take her back to Rabin's office afterwards, because Joan had just become the coolest adult she'd ever met in her life.

Finally, it was close to ten at night, and both Joan Landy and Melanie were seated in the back of a patrol car, with a uniformed officer driving them to the hotel where Joan was staying. Melanie had needed to sign for her things (the change, lighter, and Swiss Army knife) when they were returned to her, and Joan noticed with some curiosity that she signed simply with a letter M.

When they got to the hotel, Joan asked the concierge in the lobby if she had any messages, and was told there were none. So she led Melanie to the elevator, and once inside, slipped her room keycard into a slot and pressed the button for the penthouse. Once again, Melanie found herself feeling impressed. She'd never met a grown-up like this, one who seemed so important, and in control, and who actually seemed to give a damn about Melanie. Until Melanie knew _why,_ she wouldn't come close to trusting the older woman, but right now staying with her seemed like the best way to survive. The girl became even more impressed when they got to the top floor and Joan opened the door to her suite, which was as big as at least one of the foster homes Melanie had run away from.

“Now, then, Melanie,” Joan said after she shut the door. “I'm sure you're probably tired. But you need a bath before bed.”

For the first time since meeting Joan, Melanie felt an urge to run away. Until Joan led her into the bathroom, and she saw the tub, which was the largest she'd ever seen in her life, and was also lined with several plastic nozzles on its polished porcelain walls.

Joan began to run the water. “Have you ever been in a jacuzzi tub, dear?”

“Uh, no, ma'am,” Melanie answered.

“Well, I know children your age hate baths, but you might actually enjoy this.” It took a while to fill to the right level, but once there was enough water, Joan turned on the jets, and told Melanie to get in when she was ready, and leave her dirty clothes by the door. The older woman then left the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

When Melanie finally did as asked, she once again found her urge to run away repressed. Thanks to her upbringing, she would never have known what a jacuzzi was, but now... she wanted to take all her baths in one. Whenever she'd taken baths in her foster homes, she usually had to make her own bubbles through... much cruder means. The air being circulated through the hot water by the jets was definitely a _lot_ more ideal.

A few minutes later, Joan opened the door and scooped up her clothes, then shut it again and moved over to the front door of the suite. Through the bathroom door, Melanie heard Joan telling someone to clean them as best as they could. “She'll be getting new clothes tomorrow, but for now we need to get the dirt off those,” the matriarch assured whoever she was talking to.

A few minutes later, Joan entered the bathroom and knelt by the tub's edge, picking up a washcloth and using it to scrub Melanie's face clean. “Well, it seems there _is_ a little girl under all that dirt,” she said as she worked. Finally, when Melanie's fingers were starting to prune, Joan helped her out of the bath, and gave her a towel and an oversized white nightshirt, telling her to put the second thing on after she'd dried off.

Once she'd finished in the bathroom, Melanie was tucked into bed. It was a king-sized bed, larger than any she'd ever seen in her life, and what amazed her even more was that she was told the whole bed was hers. Joan had her own king-sized bed in another part of the suite. As the covers were being pulled up to her chin, Melanie's gaze happened upon the TV, which was also the biggest she'd ever seen. “Can we watch TV?” Melanie asked her new guardian.

“Not tonight, dear,” Joan said. “You've had a long day. Tomorrow, we can watch something with breakfast.”

“But I wanna watch _now_ ,” Melanie insisted.

For the first time since they'd met, Joan's expression became a bit unsettling. “But you _can't_. Not until tomorrow. You're more tired than you know, dear. And you'll need your rest, because we have a big day ahead of us.” So saying, Joan shut off the bedside lamp, then she took the TV remote and moved to another room of their suite.

Through the darkness in the room, Melanie noticed that the older woman had left her attache case sitting over on the writing desk. She waited a few minutes, cast a glance in the direction Joan had gone. Then, when she was satisfied she wouldn't be disturbed, Melanie got up from the bed and moved over to the desk. The case seemed to have a standard lock, so Melanie pulled the lockpicks from her hair, and went to work. As soon as she inserted them, a strong electrical shock seemed to jump out through the lock, then through the metal picks in her hands, jolting the young girl and throwing her out of the chair.

For a few moments, Melanie lay dazed on the soft, deep carpet, staring up at the ceiling. Then she slipped the picks back into her hair, unwilling to tempt fate any more tonight. But as she climbed back into the bed, she made a mental note of what had just happened. It turned out Joan was right, as Melanie was not awake much longer, drifting off to sleep only a few seconds after her head settled back onto the pillow...

* * *

In another part of the suite, out of earshot of Melanie, Joan sat on a large sofa and reached for an ornate-looking rotary phone on the polished mahogany table in front of her. She lifted the receiver to her ear and dialed a number.

“Yes?” A male voice with a Japanese accent answered after several rings.

“This line is not secure, so I only have a minute to talk,” Joan spoke into the phone. “But I want you to know that we might finally have a full class.”

“If indeed your errand was successful.”

“We'll know after tomorrow, sir.”

“And if you're wrong?”

“If I am, we write this trip off as a business expense and send young Melanie back to the streets. She'll survive. She's quite good at that.”

“You understand I still have misgivings about this,” the male voice spoke. “But we don't have enough time to talk now. We'll speak more about this on your return to the school.”

“Of course, sir,” Joan said. Then there was a click on the other end as the line disconnected. Upon hearing the dial tone, the middle aged woman hung up her own phone, picked up her glass of chilled mineral water, and went to prepare for bed.

 _Don't disappoint me, Melanie_ , she thought as she snapped off the light in the suite's common area.

* * *

_A room painted to look like a nursery, otherwise sterile white in color..._

_A small window in the center of the door... an older, balding man with glasses peers in..._

_Shouting..._

_A woman... dark hair... shirt torn... blood running down her arm... the same spots of crimson spackled on her hands..._

_“Mei Lin! You are in danger! You must come with me now...”_

_More shouts... gunshots..._

_A deck and a railing... bright blue ocean stretching as far as she can see..._

_“I have carried you as far as I can, child... you are a survivor, it's in your blood... stay strong...”_

Melanie's eyes slowly came open as morning sunlight slanted through the windows directly onto her face. For a moment, she thought she was still dreaming, then she remembered where she was, and why she was currently in a hotel suite larger than some of the hovels she'd lived in under foster care. But unlike the images and words that had just flashed through her mind, _that_ at least wasn't a dream.

At the moment, though, this was probably a mixed blessing. Joan was already up and dressed for business, humming to herself while she drew open the room's curtains. “Rise and shine, dear!” She said in a cheerful voice. “We have a busy day today.”

The young girl groaned and rolled the other way on her spacious bed, turning away from the light. “S'too bright,” she muttered.

Joan moved away from the windows to the bedside, head shaking in a _tsk tsk_ manner. “Yes, I know, dear,” she said in that tone of faux sympathy that Melanie was used to hearing in authoritative adults. “But the brighter it is, the easier it will be for you to move those lazy bones. We have a lot to do to get you ready for school.”

Melanie responded by grabbing one of the other pillows and jamming it over her head. She heard the scuffling of shoes on the thick plush carpet, then something was tossed onto the bed next to her. Melanie lifted the pillow slightly to see a leather-bound menu in front of her face.

“Why don't you order some breakfast, dear?” Joan asked her. “ _That_ should wake you up. I gather you must be hungry.”

 _Okay, point to her_ , Melanie thought, propping herself up on her pillows and opening her menu. It had been a day or two since she'd had a decent meal, and the snacks she'd gotten last night had hardly been filling enough. “What should I order?” She asked the matriarch. In the very rare moments when her foster parents took her out to eat, she always got yelled at if she tried to order an entree off the menu that cost more than ten dollars.

Joan was seated at the writing desk, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the complementary newspaper that had been dropped outside the door. She gave a small shrug without looking up from her reading. “Whatever you feel like, dear,” she said.

A part of Melanie still didn't trust the older woman, but she _was_ ravenous. A short time later, the young blond was sitting up in the bed, in front of a tray laden with a chocolate chip short stack, sausages, Canadian bacon, hash browns, toast with butter and jam, a Denver omelette, and a glass of chocolate milk. Joan had set her paper down and watched with an almost rapt fascination as the petite girl started to inhale the food.

“My word, you really _were_ starving, weren't you, child?” She remarked. Melanie did not respond, instead she emptied half a bottle of ketchup onto the plate of fried julienned potatoes and began to shovel them into her mouth. When it looked like she'd slowed down a little, Joan's tone of voice became a bit more serious. “Now, Melanie, you can think of today and tomorrow as a... mini vacation, of sorts. But when we arrive at your new home, you _will_ be expected to follow the rules. Which means when I give you a direction, you do as I say without arguing. Understand?”

 _Well, no surprises there. I figured there was a catch. Reminds me of fake parents numbers three and seven._ “Yes, ma'am,” Melanie said with her mouth still full.

For a while, there was silence, Joan reading the paper, Melanie continuing to defy all logic by eating everything in front of her. As she ate, Melanie picked up the remote, which was now sitting back on the nightstand, and turned on the TV. She found some cartoons to watch, and during the commercial break, Joan finally asked her: “Melanie, when I first came into the room, it looked like you were having a dream.”

Melanie was only half-listening. She picked at the remains of her omelette while her other ear listened to a commercial for some toy that, according to a disclaimer, was still legal in sixteen states. Finally, she gave a shrug. “I guess I was. Don't really remember it.”

“What was it about?”

Melanie shrugged again, forked the last of her egg. “I said I don't really remember, ma'am.”

A pause, during which it seemed like Joan was now studying the small blond girl. Finally, she herself gave a shrug. “Very well. I was only curious.”

After that, there was silence again. Around the time Melanie was finished with her breakfast (even going so far as to lick the crumbs from the plate), room service brought up her clothes, clean and freshly pressed. They would have been mistaken for new, were they not still ragged. Joan turned the TV off, told Melanie to go to the bathroom and wash her hands and face, now sticky with ketchup, jelly and syrup, and to get dressed.

“But fortunately, dear, you won't be walking around in those rags much longer,” Joan told her, “Because the first thing we are doing is taking you clothes shopping.”

* * *

Getting new clothes was something Melanie thought she would find boring, but instead it turned out to be something else that surprised her. Joan arranged for transportation through the concierge of the hotel (Melanie recognized him as a man whose pocket she had picked more than once, but kept silent about that), and they actually had a chauffeur to drive them.

He took them to one of the more upscale boutiques in Fresno. A smartly-dressed woman waited by the entrance to take them to another part of the store, where they had a dressing area all to themselves. And while the clothes were being selected, the staff laid out a small buffet of several bowls of snacks (such as pretzels and M and Ms), and even served Melanie soda in a wine glass. For a girl who'd only ever gotten clothes from Goodwill and strip malls (unless she shoplifted from a Gap), it was definitely a new experience.

Melanie was asked to stand in front of some mirrors while store employees measured her from several angles and wrote them down. Joan had procured a cell phone from her case (sadly, Melanie hadn't seen how she'd opened it), and read their measurements to someone on the other end of the line. “Have ten of each ready for us,” she spoke into the phone. “We'll be arriving tomorrow.”

After that, she bought Melanie some shoes (both sneakers and dress) and several pairs of socks, a few pairs of jeans and some casual shirts, and finally a nice dress to wear for the rest of the day. As she was putting it on, Joan asked the store employees to take the girl's old clothes and burn them. It might have been a joke, but Melanie couldn't be sure. What she _was_ sure of was that she hated wearing her new dress, but Joan convinced her that she needed to make a nice impression later on. After everything had been paid for and the driver had loaded the bags into the trunk, Melanie was taken to a doctor's office, where a thorough physical was done.

“I don't think any of your foster parents ever did this for you, dear,” Joan explained. “And we need to make sure you don't have anything contagious you might give to your classmates.”

Whatever the reason, Melanie hated every minute of it, and once more felt the urge to run away rising. Especially when the doctor had to draw some blood, and also scraped a cotton swab on the inside of her cheek. Uncomfortable as the dress was, the girl was glad to be able to put it back on when the physical was over. At that point, she was hungry again, but Joan said they had one more very important stop to make, then they could eat anywhere Melanie wanted.

The important stop was the county courthouse, where they arrived just in time for their hearing. It was a setting Melanie had seen many times before: the gallery, separated from the action by a wooden partition; the judge's bench and the tables for prosecution and defense. Behind the former sat Detective Rabin, next to a man in a suit who probably worked for the DA's office. Joan and Melanie took their seats at the latter table. “Try to look like you're sorry, dear,” Joan whispered as the two of them sat down.

Instead, Melanie just looked bored, as she'd been through this routine too many times to remember. This time, however, it was different, as everything was more or less rehearsed. The judge read off the charges against Melanie, and the suited man announced that after speaking with the detective, the state was dismissing those charges. So, the judge moved onto the next item of business: “The matter of custody for Ms. Melanie Allen,” he read off. The blond girl cringed, as she never liked hearing her full name said out loud. Joan launched into a speech she'd quite clearly prepared about the school she ran, and all the reasons it would be the best place for a mind like Melanie's to both grow, and also rehabilitate.

After she was finished, the judge asked Detective Rabin: “Is her legal guardian, Mr. Richard Allen, in court today?”

“No, your honor,” Rabin answered. “Ms. Allen has been away from home for at least forty-eight hours, and there's nothing to indicate he even filed a report after Melanie had run away.”

The judge leaned forward slightly on his bench in the direction of Melanie. “Do you know where your father is, young lady?”

“Not my father, judge,” Melanie responded with a yawn. “And I haven't seen him for three days. I think he said he was taking a trip to Mexico. Had to see a guy about some crystals, or something.”

After hearing that, the judge was quick to turn custody of Melanie over to Joan Landy and her school, and was also quick to issue several warrants for her foster father: a bench warrant for failure to appear, an arrest warrant for criminal neglect, and a warrant for Detective Rabin to search his house and see if any other charges could be brought against the man. The sun was getting low in the sky by the time that Joan and Melanie found themselves back out on the steps of the courthouse.

“Well, now that that's over with, dear,” Joan said to her new ward. “I promised you dinner. So, where would you like to eat?”

Melanie quirked one blond eyebrow, remembering what Joan had said earlier. “Really? Anywhere?”

“Of course, dear.” Her tone of voice made it seem like it was one of the silliest questions Joan had ever been asked.

Another long pause, where it seemed like the older woman was being studied by the small girl. Then Melanie answered: “There's a Chinese place over on the corner of Fourth Street and D that's really good.” She left out the fact that the reason she knew this was because she'd done a dine-and-dash on them in the past. But her hair had been shorter, and she'd been wearing fake glasses, so she didn't think they'd recognize her.

“Then that's where we're eating,” Joan said, taking Melanie's hand and starting down the steps towards their car.

The Dragon Palace turned out to be one of the more upscale Chinese restaurants in the city. And it also turned out they didn't recognize Melanie. She and Joan were led to one of the quieter tables in the back, where a waiter quickly brought them a pot of tea, two cups, and some menus.

“So, what are you interested in, dear?” Joan asked.

“Ah, I'll just get some appetizers,” Melanie said with a shrug.

“But is that what you _want?_ ” Joan got no answer, instead Melanie pressed her face closer to the menu. A minute of silence went by, then the matriarch grabbed the top of the menu and pulled it down, to look her charge directly in the eyes. “Melanie, my child, you must understand I want what's best for you, and I will discipline you when necessary, but I am _not_ any of your foster parents, and I am not the director of any orphanage. So I'm not trying to trick you. If there is something on this menu you want to eat, then order it. Money is no object. The people I work for have enough of it.”

That last line intrigued the blond girl. And it seemed to make sense, given everything she'd seen since meeting Joan. So she replied: “Well, I'd like to try the Peking Duck.” She went on to explain that one of her foster parents was ordering take-out Chinese one night, and after giving Melanie the menu to look at, had slapped the girl when she said she wanted Peking Duck.

Joan gave her a smile. “If that's what you want, dear, then get it.” So when the waiter came back, Melanie placed a half-order while Joan ordered beef and broccoli, and also an egg roll appetizer for them to share. The rolls were brought out shortly after along with bowls of duck sauce and Chinese mustard. To Joan's surprise, Melanie took the mustard spoon and began spreading a generous amount up and down her egg roll. “Um... I would be careful with that, sweetheart,” Joan told her. “It's extremely hot.”

Melanie simply shrugged and continued spreading. When she raised it to her mouth and took a large bite, Joan was expecting her to spew it across the tablecloth, but... the blond girl just chewed and swallowed, appearing to be unfazed by the heat of the mustard.

“Incredible,” Joan half-whispered.

“Not really,” Melanie said with her mouth full. “It doesn't bother me.”

A short time later, their entrees were brought out, and Joan walked Melanie through the process behind eating Peking Duck. When she took that first bite... she wondered where it had been all her young life. The juicy meat, the crispy skin, the tang of the scallions and hoisin sauce... everything blended perfectly.

After they'd been eating for a while, Joan took a sip of her wine and leaned forward slightly in the chair. “Melanie... may I ask you something, dear?”

Melanie gave a shrug, and reached for her soda. “Sure, why not?”

“What is the earliest thing you can remember?”

The petite blond had not been expecting this question, but tried not to show that in her eyes. She finished eating the rolled pancake on her plate, and then answered. “Um... the ocean, I think.”

“What do you mean by that?”

For a brief moment, Melanie's thoughts flashed back to her dream from that morning. Not the first time she'd had it, but she didn't see a reason to tell her new guardian that. At least, not yet. She still was trying to figure out why _anyone_ would care so much about her, and also why Joan's briefcase needed security measures on it. Finally, she picked up a sliver of duck skin, placed it in her mouth and started crunching it. Joan simply sat there patiently, swirling the wine left in her glass.

After Melanie swallowed, she spoke again. “I dunno. I think it was the ocean. It was just... a lot of blue stretching out to the horizon. Maybe I was on a boat? Don't really remember anything else. Just... the ocean. Don't even know which one it was.”

“I see.” The elder woman gave a curt nod, and began picking at her plate once more. They were almost done when Melanie asked her: “How did the detective catch me?”

“A witness saw you scaling the fire escape,” Joan explained. “And called the police.”

“Oh, that's too bad,” said Melanie, in a tone that was completely lacking remorse, but rather she seemed to be chastising herself for making such a careless mistake and letting herself get spotted.

“It's interesting, though,” the matriarch went on. “The witness said you were moving just like a cat. Yes... that was how they described it. They'd never seen anyone move with such agility, or so quietly. Where did you learn that?”

Another shrug. “Well, I mean, you learn how to sneak pretty quickly when you're trying not to wake up your deadbeat fake parents. But as for the other stuff... it's just always something I've had a knack for. Like the electrical stuff.”

Joan sat back in her seat, quiet admiration in her eyes, and drained her wine glass. “Fascinating.”

“Um.. can we order some fried ice cream, ma'am?”

After dessert was over and they were on their way back to the hotel, they happened to pass a 24-hour drugstore. Melanie asked the driver if they could stop, and the man looked over at Joan, one brow raised in a quizzical expression.

The older woman gave him a nod. “Why are we stopping, Melanie?”

“No reason. There's just something I need to buy.”

“Well, that _is_ a reason. What are we buying, dear?”

“Just something I need,” Melanie repeated, and said no more.

To her surprise, Joan did not ask any further questions, and after the car was parked, took Melanie into the drugstore. The girl went immediately to a housewares aisle and selected a pair of rubber kitchen gloves. Joan thought this an interesting purchase for a ten-year-old, but decided it might give her some insight into what was going on inside that mysterious young mind. So she remained silent.

From the drugstore, it was back to the hotel, where there was a nice end to the day. Melanie finally got to take off the accursed dress, take another bath in the jacuzzi, put her comfy nightshirt on, and climb into bed to watch some television. Joan didn't even seem to mind when Melanie chose a channel playing an R-Rated movie. For some reason, the matriarch almost looked satisfied with this decision (not that it mattered to Melanie, she'd seen the movie before).

Finally, it was lights out. A few minutes after Melanie had been tucked in and Joan left the room, the blond girl's eyes came open. She waited a few more minutes for her vision to get adjusted, then she glanced around the room, and through the dimness saw the case sitting on the writing desk. Almost as if its owner were daring Melanie to find a way to open it.

“Dare accepted,” Melanie whispered to herself. She reached under her pillow, where the kitchen gloves were hiding, slipped them on, and rose from the bed, once more approaching the case with her lockpicks ready.

As before, a jolt of electricity shot out from the lock, but this time, Melanie's rubber gloves absorbed the juice, leaving her unfazed. It did not take long for her to open the lock, and as she swung that security latch upwards... she was greeted with another lock, this one a row of four combination wheels.

“Um... well, this sucks,” she whispered to herself. She sat there for several moments, wondering what to do. Should she try and guess the combination? What would happen if she guessed wrong? Another electrical shock? Or something else?

After spending several minutes sitting there trying to make up her mind, the small girl heard a faint hissing noise which seemed to be coming from the case itself. The air around her suddenly took on a sour/sweet smell, and then Melanie felt her eyelids grow heavy, saw her vision blurring. _Gas_? Was the last thought she had before the world went black, and she slipped from the chair, collapsing in a heap on the carpet.

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

So, I've stuck a lot of pop culture references in the last two chapters. I won't list them off, I think it will be more fun to see if readers can spot them. I make at least two references to the Simpsons in this chapter. Let me know in a review what you caught.

Also, I am aware that the court system doesn't work this fast in real life, but I gotta move the story forward, and... there's a reason it's called _fiction._

Next: Vacation is over! It's time for Melanie to see her new home.


	3. A Warm Welcome

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime.

* * *

_Chapter Three: A Warm Welcome_

“Melanie...”

The voice sounded close, yet distant. The girl had the distinct feeling that she was floating.

“Melanie...”

Closer now, but she couldn't tell whether it came from inside her head, or out. It sounded like it could be either.

“Melanie, dear...”

With a groan, her dark brown eyes came open. Her head felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton, and there was an aching in her joints. She was lying on her bed, but... she had no memory of getting back into it. What time was it? What day, for that matter?

“Melanie...”

The girl turned her head at that gentle, yet persistent voice and saw Joan standing over her, arms folded smartly across her breast. “Have a good sleep, dear?” The matriarch asked, voice tinged around the edges with sarcasm.

“I've had better,” Melanie admitted, moving into a sitting position on the king-sized mattress, her limbs still stiff from being in awkward positions most of the night, courtesy of her induced sleep on the floor.

“You were on the floor when I came in this morning,” Joan explained. “I picked you up and moved you to your bed. Now, why on earth would you be sleeping on the floor, sweetheart, when you had that big, comfortable bed all to yourself?”

Melanie was usually good at improvising bullshit on the spot. It helped when she was trying to avoid punishment from her elders. But, this time she was at a loss. “Um... the bed was _too_ comfortable, ma'am,” was the best she could manage.

Joan gave a reproachful shake of her head. “Or perhaps... you were trying to get into _that_?” She turned slightly, pointed in the direction of the writing desk, where her briefcase still sat.

Melanie had a strong feeling it would be pointless to continue pretending (Joan was definitely the shrewdest adult she'd met, smarter than most of the police, not to mention the fact that the petite girl still wore her kitchen gloves), but she kept at it out of instinct. “Why would I care about _that_?” She said with a shrug.

“You tell me,” Joan answered her. After a terse silence, she picked up the case and began to turn the combination wheels on the front of it. After lining up the numbers just right, she laid it flat on the bed. “Well, you wanted to look in it that badly, dear. So go ahead.”

The young blond did not move. Joan laughed and said, “Not to worry, child. It's safe now. No further traps. Go on... open it.”

Melanie doffed her gloves, then leaned forward and opened the case. Inside, there was nothing except a cell phone, some silver fountain pens, and lots of papers. Melanie rooted through them and recognized some as the legal documents from her hearing yesterday, but others seemed to be... information. Brochures on something called the CLEMENCY SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNG WOMEN. The picture on the front of the brochures looked pastoral, several venerable-looking buildings nestled amidst a forest of evergreens.

Melanie would have made a comment about how the school itself probably looked nothing like the picture, but she was too startled by the fact that the case's contents were so... tame. Why go to all that trouble to guard something not worth guarding?

As if she were reading the girl's mind, Joan commented: “The rubber gloves were a most ingenious idea. Most girls your age wouldn't have thought to use such a thing to absorb the electricity. Well, most girls would have given up after that first initial setback, but you were _so_ determined. I imagine the second lock _was_ a bit trickier. If no combination is entered after two minutes, or if the wrong one is entered, the case emits a concentrated cloud of trichloromethane, invisible to the naked eye, though it _does_ have a very distinct smell. It dissipates rather quickly, but anyone unfortunate enough to be standing within a foot of the case will be rendered unconscious for several hours.”

Though Melanie's brain was still a little slow from the effects of that trichloro... whatever Joan had said, it suddenly made sense why the older woman would just leave her case in Melanie's room. “This... was a test?”

“Indeed,” Joan affirmed with a curt nod. “And you did better than expected, though the second part tripped you up. But it tripped the other girls up, too.”

“Well, yeah. Why would I be expecting a second lock?”

For a brief moment, Joan Landy's blue eyes suddenly became a bit colder, like chips of ice. “You should _always_ expect the unexpected, child. Sometimes, it's the only way to survive. You were lucky that gas was just chloroform. If it had been a more toxic compound, you'd be dead now.” And like that, the expression became more maternal again. “But this is one of the skills you will learn at your new home, Melanie: how to be ready for anything, to stay two moves ahead of those who would harm you.”

For a moment, all Melanie could do was stare at her new guardian. Just who _was_ this woman? Though a sliver of mistrust still remained, Melanie filed it into the back of her mind for the time being, because she had an answer to her question: the type of woman who could teach her the skills she truly needed in life. After a moment, the stare turned into a look of grudging admiration.

Joan gave her young charge a nod, and then handed her the room service menu. “Now, then, dear, I'm sure you're still feeling the effects of the gas. A little breakfast will clear the cobwebs from your head. Then we need to start packing our things.”

Though Melanie was no longer starving, she was still hungry enough to order both a bowl of Cocoa Puffs, and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. She had also asked for a bottle of Tabasco sauce, which she shook vigorously over her eggs. A little _too_ vigorously. Joan thought about saying something, but she remembered the Chinese mustard from the night before, and so kept silent. After Melanie had doused her eggs in hot sauce, she took up her fork and tucked into them, once more appearing unfazed by the spice.

“Amazing,” Joan said out loud, before turning back to her own breakfast of yogurt, fruit, and Grape Nuts. After they were done eating, Melanie got dressed in some of the casual wear that had been purchased yesterday, and then they packed their things for check-out. Which didn't take long. Joan had traveled light, and Melanie had nothing except the clothes Joan had bought for her. Once more, the concierge arranged for transportation to the airport. To the surprise of Melanie, it was not the international airport that most regular people would have to use, but Fresno-Chandler Executive Airport.

Once there, the two boarded a private jet to Seattle, Washington. It was the first time in her life Melanie had been on a plane (as far as she knew), and the first time she'd been out of California (again, as far as her limited recollections were concerned). She had heard one of her foster parents rant about what a clusterfuck air travel was, but they clearly hadn't been talking about private jets. _Money really_ is _no object,_ Melanie thought to herself as she sipped Dr. Pepper through a straw and watched the ground grow more distant outside the small window.

Despite yet another new experience, Melanie eventually grew bored sitting in the seat, so one of the flight crew offered the young blond a selection of reading material. Most of it looked boring, novels written by people who were dead now, but she did find a “Milk and Cheese” comic book mixed in with the literature, and selected that. She'd never read them before, but found herself laughing out loud quite a bit at their antics. “I don't know how _that_ got in there,” Joan said with a reproachful tone when she saw what her charge was reading. “But an exception could be made. Your access to comics will be limited when you start school.”

Lunchtime rolled around when they were halfway to their destination. Which also turned out to be a new experience for the neglected, street-savvy preteen. “Have you ever eaten lobster, Melanie?” Joan asked her.

“No,” the girl answered. “And I don't wanna. It looks like a big, gross bug.” She shuddered a little at the thought.

The elder woman chuckled at her. “Well, you might like this. It's prepared in such a way that it's easy not to think about the... whole 'bug' part.” So saying, Joan placed two orders for lobster thermidore for their lunch. Melanie's urge to run away had never been stronger, but as she was in the air, for the first time in her life there was no place she could run. But she changed her mind when the plate was placed in front of her. Yes, it was served in its own shell, but the legs, eyes, and feelers had all been removed, making it easy not to think about where it came from. And what was in the shell... was extremely good. Melanie was surprised at how sweet and tender lobster meat was, and mixed with the cream sauce... it was probably better than the duck she'd eaten yesterday.

“It seems I've made a believer out of you, dear,” Joan said, watching Melanie eat the last of the meat from the shell.

“Well, as long as it's made like this,” Melanie said, and then started on the side, which was a buttered baked potato sprinkled with chives and bacon bits. After such a hearty lunch, the girl felt sleepy, and so she napped for the rest of the flight.

The landing was uneventful, and jolted Melanie out of her rest. She'd had the same dream from the night before last while she'd been sleeping, but if Joan had noticed, she chose not to comment on it. After they departed the plane, they walked only a few hundred yards across the tarmac to a waiting limousine, which the flight crew quickly loaded their luggage into.

Once again, Melanie found herself experiencing a memorable “first.” The passenger space inside the car that she and Joan were sitting in... was larger than some of the cars her foster parents had owned. The seat beneath her was made of buttery black leather, so soft that Melanie was afraid she might sink into it. There was even a television, bar and mini-fridge/freezer that was quite well stocked.

“Enjoy this while you can, dear,” Joan said as she watched the petite blonde procure an ice cream bar from the freezer. “Your life will be... somewhat different in a few hours.” Melanie only half-listened, as she stared out the window, watching the bustling city life that they passed, with its seemingly perpetual dreary gray sky hanging over it. She wasn't sure just what Joan meant by that, but she wasn't too worried. If she didn't like her new home, her Plan B was still to run away. She'd broken out of orphanages too many times to count in the past. This would be no different...

* * *

A few more hours went by. Eventually, the busy sidewalks of Seattle outside the car window gave way to views of suburbs, which gave way to more rustic views. The paved road cut a lazy, winding path through scenic forests, with both deciduous and evergreen trees towering over the limo, their leaves still forming a thick canopy in the early autumn.

Melanie passed the time by watching TV and snacking on things. Every now and then, she'd glance out the window, but saw nothing except large trees, so she would always turn back to the television (as well as pocketing snacks from the bar when Joan wasn't looking). It was late afternoon by the time that the young girl heard Joan announce: “Here we are, dear! Your new home!” Melanie moved to the window, and peering it out of it, saw the limo approaching a clearing in the evergreens, in the center of which rested a grouping of several venerable-looking buildings, constructed of gray stone and mortar. It was surrounded on all sides by a high fence, at least twenty feet.

When they got closer, to the front gate where a uniformed security guard was waiting, Melanie couldn't help but notice a small square sign attached to the fence with a picture of a lightning bolt painted on it. _Well, that's new,_ she thought. _Since when does a school need an electric fence?_ Escape might be trickier, should it come to that, but Melanie was still fairly certain she could pull it off.

The driver flashed the guard ID, and rolled down one of the rear windows, allowing the guard to peer inside. “Ms. Landy,” the man said with a nod when he noticed Joan and Melanie. He touched two fingers on his right hand to his brow. “Welcome home, ma'am.”

“Thank you, Cosgrove,” Joan said to the uniformed man. “I'm very glad to be back. Especially since the trip appears to have been a success.”

The guard named Cosgrove nodded politely, and then walked back to his kiosk. He reached in through the window and pressed a button on his panel, and with a grinding whir, the gate started to slide open.

The limo entered and made its way down what looked like the center of a quad area, with thick dark green grass that appeared perfectly kept. Milling around on the grass, some of them playing catch or Frisbee, others sitting on blankets gossiping, Melanie could see several other girls who appeared to be her age, most of them blond, though a few were brunette or black-haired, all of them dressed in school uniforms. The limo stopped just outside the steps to a large stone building that overlooked this common area, and the driver got out and opened the door for his passengers.

“Wait here, dear,” Joan told Melanie. “I just have to go check and see if the doctor has faxed in your... test results. I'll be back in a moment.” So saying, she ascended the steps and disappeared inside the building, leaving Melanie alone with the driver, who was cleaning his side-view mirror with a rag. Melanie decided to leave him alone (she doubted he could tell her anything useful, anyway), and continued to look around at the other girls scattered on the quad. There was an occasional curious glance in the direction of the limo, but overall no one paid her any mind.

After a while, Melanie grew bored, sat down on the bottom step, and took out her old Swiss Army knife. She busied herself by opening and closing it. Even though she knew the blade had lost any edge it had left a few years ago, she liked to hold onto it. The other attachments, such as the can opener, Phillips head, and corkscrew still worked, and all had their uses for breaking and entering.

“Nice knife,” said a female voice behind her. Melanie turned her head just a little to see a girl with shoulder length blond hair and a look of arrogance in her pale blue eyes, wearing the same uniform as those on the quad. She seemed to be built a little better than most of them, though. Even through the long-sleeved white blouse, Melanie could see that her arms looked pretty solid. They were folded in front of her chest, which already seemed to be developing despite that fact that she could not have been much older than Melanie, if not the same age.

The smaller girl almost felt a twinge of jealousy, then she remembered it would probably be wasted on whoever this was, and stood up, bringing her whole body around to face the other girl. Even without the second step to give her extra height, Melanie estimated she was about six inches taller.

“It suits you,” the girl went on to say with a smirk suggesting that she already felt that Melanie was beneath her. “It's runty... just like its owner.”

Melanie gave a small shrug. Not the first time another kid had made a remark about her height. Usually, the petite blond could come up with a retort that would send the bigger kid crying to a grown-up. This time, she didn't feel like doing that much work. Melanie didn't feel like wasting a witty comeback on the likes of her, and besides, something told her this other girl would be immune, anyway. So, she shrugged again. “Well, it ain't the size that matters. It's how you use it.”

“I'm sure runts like you say that all the time, to make yourselves feel better,” the girl said with a snort. “But at the end of the day, a runt is a runt.”

Melanie glanced briefly over her shoulder, keeping one eye on the girl. The driver of the limousine was now wiping some bird droppings off the front windshield, and seemed to be paying them no mind. So the smaller girl asked her antagonist: “Speaking of size, how many people could wipe their asses with what you've got stuffed down your shirt?”

This earned her some mocking laughter from the taller blond. “These are real, runt. Which is more than you'll ever be able to say.” Melanie's shirt was a little big on her, but it was still easy to see how flat her own chest was underneath the garment. Even though Melanie knew in the back of her mind that there was still time for her to grow (as one of her skeevier foster dads had liked to remind her), it still irked her to be facing a girl for whom puberty had started early.

The other girl took her prey's silence as a concession, and asked her: “So, you got any money?”

Melanie nodded, remembering the change in her pocket. “Yeah, but you can't have it.”

The girl moved off the steps until she was standing right in Melanie's face, close enough for Melanie to smell the Wrigley's on her breath, and also confirming the significant difference in their height. “I wasn't asking you,” she said.

Despite the fact that she was looking up at her aggressor, Melanie remained defiant. “I know. But you still can't have it.”

Just as things were about to escalate, the door to the main building behind them opened, and Joan Landy emerged. “Ah, Melanie,” she said as she descended the steps. “I see you've met Regina.” She stepped up alongside them and gave the taller girl a pat on the shoulder. “She is quite popular around here.”

“Can't imagine why,” Melanie said with a shrug, and smiled when she saw the red seeping into Regina's face.

“Well, you'll have time to find out,” Joan said, talking Melanie by the hand and leading her up the stairs, leaving Regina fuming. “But in the meantime, the results of your physical show you're healthy, with no infectious or contagious diseases, so it's time for you to be introduced to the rest of the school.”

“Uh... what does that involve?” Melanie asked.

“Just a brief assembly,” Joan explained. “But first... we need to get you into your uniform.”

So Melanie was led inside the building and down several hallways to an empty room with no windows. Waiting for them inside was a member of the staff holding a bundle of clothes.

“It was a tricky thing, Ms. Landy,” the staff member explained, “given the fact that the measurements you gave us yesterday were smaller than most of the girls here, but we managed to produce something in her size.”

“Excellent,” Joan said to her subordinate. “Now, Melanie, dear, I must ask you to empty out your pockets.” After a pause, Melanie did as asked, producing her lockpicks and lighter, her change, her dull knife, and all of the snacks she'd tried to smuggle out of the limousine.

Joan laughed when she saw this. “Clever girl. Well, you can keep everything except the snacks.” So saying, the staff member gathered the contraband food up into a box. After that, both he and Joan left the room, giving Melanie some privacy so she could change into the same school uniform she'd seen the other girls wearing: black dress shoes and knee-high socks, red pleated skirt, white button-down blouse, beige vest, and a red silk kerchief to be knotted about her neck. As she changed, she wondered what sort of a school would let a child keep a knife, lighter, and lockpicks, but she also remembered that Joan said she would actually be learning useful skills at this school.

After she was dressed in her new outfit, Melanie walked over to a full-length mirror on the wall and stood in front of it. _God, I look like a tool_ , she thought at her reflection. She also couldn't help but notice that the uniform was still a little big on her in spots. She'd had to roll up the cuffs on the blouse so her hands were unencumbered. But still, it was probably better than the uniforms they wore at Juvenile Hall.

Her thoughts were interrupted by knocking at the door. “Come in,” Melanie called. Joan entered the room and smiled down at her new charge.

“You look very smart, dear,” she said.

Melanie shrugged. “I look like all the other girls here. That's the point of uniforms, right?”

“It's more than that, sweetheart. We are not just a school here, we are a community. And what you are wearing means you are now a part of that community.”

Melanie looked unconvinced. “Um... have I joined a cult, ma'am?”

“A _community_ , dear,” Joan insisted. “Also, from this point forward, you are now one of my students, so I expect you to address me as 'Ms. Landy.'” Once more, Joan's expression had changed to the same one Melanie had briefly seen at breakfast yesterday.

After a moment, Melanie answered her: “Yes... um... Ms. Landy.”

The older woman nodded in approval. “Now then, my driver is delivering the rest of your clothing to your new dorm room, but we can't go there just yet. Follow me, please.”

Joan led Melanie out of the changing room, and down several more hallways until finally they came to a door with a frosted glass window in the center, which had the words OFFICE OF MS. JOAN LANDY, HEADMISTRESS etched across it in bold black letters. On the other side of the door was a small waiting area which led into the office proper. Off to one side in this antechamber was a desk, behind which sat a woman, also smartly dressed, who looked to be about ten years younger than Joan. She stood up as Joan and Melanie entered.

“Welcome home, Ms. Landy,” the woman said, then picked up some slips which had been stacked crisply on one side of the desk. “I have your messages for you.”

“That will have to wait, Candace,” Joan said to the assistant. “Right now, I need to get on the PA.”

“Of course.” Candace picked up a desktop microphone from the other side of her desk, and after switching it on, handed it over to the older woman. There was a brief whine of feedback that made Melanie wince, and then Joan announced into the mike that all the girls were expected to gather for assembly in the next five minutes. It took just a little over that length of time for Joan and Melanie to walk from the office to the main assembly hall. As they entered, all the girls gathered there (from a quick headcount, Melanie guessed there were about forty-nine) stood up from their seats.

“Be seated,” Joan told the girls, and ascended a small staircase up onto a stage with a podium and a microphone. She moved behind the podium and motioned for Melanie to come stand next to her. The small girl would have been just fine standing where she was, but she had been warned to follow directions, and didn't feel like testing Joan's limits on the first day. That would come later. So, with a slight tinge of red in her cheeks, she climbed up onto the stage and took a spot alongside the podium.

“First of all, I'm glad to see you were all so well-behaved in my absence,” Joan spoke into the microphone. “My assistant did not have any disciplinary reports to show me. So you can all expect a little treat at dinner tonight. And second... I am most pleased to announce that my trip was successful. This...” -she gestured to the petite blond standing next to her- “...is young Melanie. She will be joining our school and our community. So we now have a full class of fifty students. I want you all to do your parts to make Melanie feel... at home here.”

There was an odd pause before Joan spoke those last few words, but Melanie wasn't thinking about that right now. At the moment, she was staring down at the polished wood floor of the stage, wishing she were somewhere else instead of being scrutinized by that sea of faces. She glimpsed Regina sitting in the front rows, her blue eyes fixed on Melanie with a glare that could have cut diamonds. A few of the other girls sitting close to Regina seemed to be eyeing the new girl with... some sort of hunger, the way that dogs might eye scraps from the master's table. And most of the other girls assembled... looked indifferent. Save one: a small girl in the back, her jet-black hair done in a French braid, who regarded Melanie with what looked like genuine curiosity.

“If you could,” Joan went on. “Take some time to show her around, help her learn where everything is, introduce her to the other faculty. I myself will be too occupied with my own duties for now, but I'll be checking in on her when I can.” She gave another curt nod to the assembled students. “Well, that is all. Dinner is at six, and until then, you all have leisure time.” So saying, the headmistress turned away from the podium, and led Melanie off the stage.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Joan got down on one knee in front of the petite blond. “I'm afraid I have to get back to work now, dear. Are you going to be okay?”

Melanie shrugged. The worst part was over, as far as she was concerned. “I'll manage, Ms. Landy. As long as I don't have to stand in front of any more crowds.”

The elder woman chuckled. “Don't worry, child. That will be the last time, I promise. I'm sure you'll be all right. Your fellow students can assist you with any other questions you have.” Joan rumpled the girl's golden hair, then rose and left the hall. Melanie lingered behind until it seemed like the last of the other students had trickled out, then she started off in the direction they had gone. She didn't feel like asking any of them for help at the moment. She'd figure things out on her own, like she usually did.

She stepped outside, into the waning light of the westering sun, and as she reached the bottom of the stone staircase, she suddenly felt a fist that seemed to come out of nowhere, smashing hard into her gut. The blow pushed the air from her lungs, bringing Melanie to her knees, gasping and choking. Rough hands then grabbed Melanie by her vest, not even letting her catch her breath, and then the small girl was dragged to her feet, and found herself face-to-face with Regina, close enough for Melanie to once again smell her gum.

“Let's get one thing straight,” the taller blond hissed through clenched teeth, small flecks of spittle flying into Melanie's face with each syllable spoken. “I'm in charge here, and you're just the runt of the litter. That means you do what I say. I ask for money, you give it to me. And if you ever disrespect me like that in front of Landy again... I will put you in a fucking wheelchair!”

The entire time, Melanie just stared at her, unflinching, a smirk of amusement on her face. “You think this is funny, runt?” Regina asked her.

“Hilarious,” Melanie answered. “I just can't believe that they put a talking gorilla in charge. How many times a week do they have to shave you?”

A split-second later, Melanie's vision exploded into a haze of stars as Regina slammed her forehead against the smaller girl's face in a headbutt. Her knee then came up into Melanie's solar plexus, knocking the wind from her again, and another swift punch put the small girl flat on her back.

“Ow...” Melanie said in a monotone voice, as if this were routine for her, but other than that she remained sprawled in the dirt, blood leaking from her nostrils, waiting for the world to stop spinning.

“How's that for feeling at home, runt?” She heard Regina ask. “Consider that your only warning.” She then heard Regina turn and stalk off across the lawn.

Melanie didn't know how long she'd been laying there with her nose bleeding, when she heard footsteps on the dry gravel. She turned her head, and saw a pair of dress-shoe clad feet standing only a few inches from her head.

“You're lucky she was in a good mood,” said the owner of the feet. “She could have broken your nose with that headbutt, but she didn't put her full weight behind it. I can tell. She's done it to me enough times.” Melanie moved her gaze upward, and saw the black-haired girl from assembly, the one with the curious eyes, standing over her. The girl smiled and offered a hand to her. “I'm Kimberly.”

Melanie ignored the hand and sat up on her own, wiping the blood from her nose with the back of her hand. “I don't care who you are. I'm more interested in why you'd wanna help me.”

Kimberly moved into a crouch next to the blond girl. “Because _I_ was the runt in this school... until you showed up. So I know what you're in for. And in a place like this, you're gonna need allies.”

Melanie shook her head, and after a moment, rose to her feet. “I've never needed anyone.”

Kimberly stood up next to her, and it was then Melanie noticed that the dark-haired girl was only slightly taller, by maybe a half-inch, if that. “You say that now,” said Kim. “But let's see if you still have that attitude in a few days.”

“Just watch me,” Melanie spat defiantly.

“You can keep telling yourself that,” Kimberly said with a shrug. “Or you can admit you're gonna need someone to show you the ins and outs of this place, and how to navigate the social order.”

“I _know_ the social order,” Melanie insisted. “It's the same as every orphanage I ever broke out of: You have the big bitch, you have the smaller cunts who kiss her ass, and everyone else is their prey. I'll manage on my own.”

“Have it your way,” said the dark-haired girl. “But still, if you wanna get your nose looked at, the infirmary is in that building over there.” She pointed to one of the brick and mortar structures. “Through those double doors, take a left, then the second right, and then you should start seeing signs for it.”

“I said I don't need your help!” Melanie repeated.

Another shrug. “Suit yourself, new girl.” With that, Kimberly turned and started walking down one of the gravel paths that wound through the pristine grass. Melanie watched her walk away, still suspicious of her. But then she felt and tasted her own warm blood still dripping down onto her lips, and realized that she probably _should_ see a nurse, just to make sure nothing was broken.

She turned and walked in the opposite direction Kimberly was going, remembering the directions the other girl had given. But as she walked, she recited the mantra that had gotten her through the orphanage, the streets, and every broken foster home she'd ever been dumped in.

_You don't need anyone. Because other people are only looking out for themselves. They'll say they care, and then they'll leave you as soon as you become inconvenient. You've survived on your own so far, you'll survive on your own here. By looking out for your skin, and not getting attached._

And based on what Joan had told her, she would learn new ways of survival at this school. To make her even more independent. As Melanie continued towards the infirmary, the thought of that made her smile.

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

Originally, I had more planned for this chapter, but the word count is already getting high, so we'll put a break here, and continue next chapter.

According to Malin's profile, she likes spicy food and hates bugs. Both of these things were referenced in this chapter.

It's a head-canon of mine that Malin's favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. Because in my ficverse, it's also Yuri's favorite soda, so I thought it would be amusing for the two future rivals to have common ground.

Also, if you've never heard of the comic “Milk and Cheese,” I suggest you google them. I feel like their humor would be right up Malin's alley.

Well, that's all for now. Next chapter should be up soon, since we're all home-bound right now. In the meantime, please read and review!


	4. Roommates

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the anime.

* * *

_Chapter Four: Roommates_

Much as she would never admit to anyone, Melanie found the infirmary without too much trouble thanks to Kimberly's directions. She was still trying to figure out just what the other girl's game was as she knocked on a door which, like Joan's office, also had a frosted glass pane in the center, this one with a red cross painted on it.

“Come in,” said a soft voice on the other side of the door, more matriarchal than Joan's. Melanie turned the knob and entered.

The woman who ran the infirmary was older than Joan, with salt and pepper hair which was done up into a bun over a round face adorned with wire-rimmed glasses. Melanie was about to explain why she was here, but the nurse surprised her by saying: “Ah, I see you've had a run-in with Regina.”

The small blond tried to mask her surprise and pretend to be unimpressed, but she failed, as both her eyebrows shot up for a moment. “Um... yeah,” the girl answered with a hint of wariness.

“I knew when I saw your nose,” the nurse said with a chuckle. “Regina does love to use her head. If she used it as more than just a weapon, my job would be easier. But sadly, you're not the first of her victims I've tended to today.” She gestured to a nearby examination table. “Please, have a seat.”

Melanie did as asked, seeing an opportunity to get more information. “So... Regina does this a lot?” She asked.

“Too much, honestly,” the nurse answered. She had just donned a pair of rubber gloves, and handed Melanie a tissue. While Melanie used it to staunch the blood flow, the nurse probed the rim of her nose with her fingertips, feeling for signs of snapped cartilage. Melanie winced a little, but kept her discomfort to herself.

“I'm surprised Ms. Landy does nothing to stop it,” Melanie said with a shrug.

“Well, for some reason, our headmistress seems to think that bullying in small doses is healthy for the girls around here,” the nurse said in reply. “Says it builds character. That's why she allows it, as long as the bully doesn't 'cross any lines'. But I wish Ms. Landy would do more about it.”

Another shrug. “Well, that's fine. I wasn't gonna tell her about Regina, anyway. I'm not a snitch, and I've never needed grown-ups to fight my battles for me. I'll be okay on my own.”

The nurse gave a sad shake of her head. “It isn't right for one so young to think like that.”

Melanie laughed in spite of herself, remembering something she'd heard from one of her foster parents, whose name she couldn't recall because their names had never mattered to her. “Yeah, well, a lot of things in life aren't right. But that's life. So, deal with it.”

Another sad head shake. “I'm sorry that you carry such a burden on your shoulders, child. I wish it weren't so. Children your age shouldn't have to.”

The woman sounded weary, as if her job was starting to take its toll on her. But Melanie still didn't feel like trusting her. “And yet here we are. You can wish in one hand, and shit in the other, and guess which one fills up first?”

To Melanie's surprise, the response seemed to make the graying woman even more sad. But she simply sighed, as if this were normal life around here, and walked over to one of her cabinets. “Well, the good news, dear, is that nothing is broken. I'm just going to give you a little spray to help clear out the blood, and you'll be on your way.”

“Uh... spray?” Melanie asked her.

The nurse nodded, and started back towards the exam table with a smile on her face, the melancholy of a few moments ago either forgotten, or repressed. In her hands, she held a small nasal spray bottle. “Yes, dear. Just a little saline mist. It'll disinfect the area, too.”

Melanie began to fidget on the table. “Um... no thanks. I'm good.” She held her tissue away from her nose, streaked with red. “See? I think it even stopped bleeding on its own.”

The nurse shook her head. “Now, now, dear, it's my job to take care of you girls. The headmistress is quite clear that she doesn't want any of you permanently damaged.” Melanie tried to jump up from the table, but the nurse brought her free hand down on the small girl's leg, showing surprising strength for one her age, keeping Melanie fixed in place.

Despite her protests, Melanie wound up getting a stinging spritz in each nostril. No sooner had the nurse finished than Melanie all but leapt from the table, and began doing what looked like an odd dance around the room. Though she'd learned at a young age how to take a punch, she still had never gotten used to the sting of disinfectant on her wounds afterwards. “Ah, fuck, it burns! God-motherfucking-dammit! Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow! Shit on a fucking cracker!”

When she'd regained her senses, Melanie ran to the nearest box of tissues and started to blow her nose repeatedly. There were streaks of red at first, but eventually what came out was clear. She glanced over at the nurse, saw the elder woman giving her a reproachful glare.

“Where does a girl your age learn to speak in such an un-ladylike manner?” She asked Melanie.

“Foster homes and TV,” was the reply.

Again, the look of reproach suddenly turned more world-weary. Then the nurse shook her head. “Well, you're obviously all better. So off with you now.”

Melanie nodded. “Thanks... um... Miss...”

“You can call me Gladys,” the nurse said with a smile. “I tell all the girls to call me that.”

“Oh. I'm Melanie.”

The smile grew wider. “It's nice to meet you, Melanie. Try and stay safe out there.”

“Um... right.” With that, Melanie turned and left the infirmary. Unlike Joan, Gladys had actually seemed sincere in her kindness. Not that she likely wasn't hiding an ulterior motive (as far as Melanie was concerned, _all_ adults had those), but for the moment, Melanie decided to put the nurse's threat level at “low.”

 _As long as she isn't wielding disinfectant._ The blond girl shuddered as she walked down the hallway. Her eyes flicked rapidly from side to side, reading other doors whenever she passed them. This appeared to be the building where most of the classes would be, as indicated by the writing on the doors (BIOLOGY LAB, MATH LAB, AUXILIARY LIBRARY, etc). Which would also explain why Melanie hadn't run into anyone else, as it was Sunday.

Finally, she was back outside again, and the sun had moved even lower in the sky. She saw fewer girls playing on the grass, as most of them seemed to have moved inside until dinnertime. But the girls left outside still paid her no mind. No surprises there. If indeed Melanie was Regina's newest punching bag, anyone with half a brain would avoid being overly friendly with the new girl. _I dunno why Kimberly seems to think this is that different from the outside._

“Find the infirmary?” Melanie heard a voice behind her, then turned and saw a familiar black-haired girl leaning against the wall next to the double doors, thumbs hooked casually in the belt of her pleated skirt.

 _Speak of the devil,_ the petite blond thought. Before Melanie could respond, Kimberly pointed to the other girl's nose, no longer bleeding. “Ah, I see you did. Which means you met Gladys. She's really nice. Probably one of the nicest staff members here. I got to know her pretty well, since, you know, I used to be in your position...”

“Don't you have anything better to do than follow me?” Melanie snapped at her, cutting her off.

“Sure I do,” Kimberly answered. “But here's the thing, Mel: I don't really _believe_ you when you say you don't need help. I mean, if you hadn't listened to me just now, you'd be walking around with tissues crammed up your nose for the next hour. So that leads me to believe you're too stubborn to admit you need help. Or maybe it's pride. Short people like us tend to have a lot of that, and it gets wounded easily.”

“I have better things to do than be analyzed by you,” Melanie growled, and started to walk away.

“Like what?” Kimberly asked.

Melanie stopped walking, and spun more suddenly than Kimberly was expecting in order to face the other girl. “Look, what's your game, here?”

Kim seemed not to understand the question. “I don't follow you.”

“There's something you're getting out of this,” Melanie explained. “That's the only reason I can think of that you keep pestering me like this. You'll save us both a lot of time if you just tell me what it is you want, so I can tell you to get lost.”

Before Kimberly could say anything in response, they heard the whine of the PA system. “Attention, students and faculty: dinner will be served in ten minutes. Please report to the dining hall.”

The dark-haired girl stood up straight from the wall, Melanie's comment forgotten. “Come on, Melanie. Lemme show you where the dining hall is.”

“Are you deaf or just fucking stupid?” Melanie growled. “I told you: I. Don't. Need. Your. Help.”

Kim rolled her eyes, “Look, Melanie, I don't know where you come from. This tough girl act might have worked for you on the outside, but you are in a completely new situation now. One you know nothing about. You don't even know where things _are_ in this school, and right now, you have someone standing in front of you willing to show you where the goddamn dining hall is. You can either take my help, or try to find it yourself, and maybe you _will_. Or maybe you won't, in which case you'll go hungry tonight. So what's it gonna be?”

Much as Melanie hated to admit, but Kimberly had a point. “Okay,” she conceded. “You can show me where the dining hall is, at least.”

“Good enough,” Kimberly said. “Let's go.” So she started off down one of the gravel paths at a brisk pace, with Melanie following close behind.

“But just so we're clear,” Melanie said to the other girl. “This does not make us allies, and it does _not_ make us friends.”

“If you say so,” Kimberly said. But all the same, her face carried an odd grin, one that made Melanie trust her even less.

* * *

The dining hall turned out to be in the main building, which the limousine had parked outside of earlier. It both did and did not remind Melanie of dining halls in every orphanage she'd ever been in. There were two long tables for the students on one side of the room, and the shorter tables for faculty and staff on the other end. That was familiar. What wasn't were the fact that everyone had an individual chair (instead of one long wooden bench that everyone had to share), and also there did not appear to be any assigned seating.

Of course, some girls still congregated to certain areas of the table. Regina was down at the end closest to the faculty, and sitting alongside her were the same girls Melanie had seen sitting close to her at assembly. Melanie quickly claimed a chair at the other table, as far from the faculty (and Regina) as possible. She was slightly dismayed that Kimberly took the chair next to her.

“Stand behind the chair, Melanie,” the dark-haired girl said when she noticed Melanie pulling it out to sit. “We don't sit until Landy tells us.”

Melanie said nothing in response, but she _did_ remain standing. After most of the students had filed in, the adults began to do the same. It was a minute before six when the headmistress entered the hall, walking smartly between the two student tables, and taking a position behind a chair in the center faculty table.

Joan raised her hands, ordering everyone to silence, then her steel-blue eyes swept over the students, stopping at Melanie. “Melanie, dear, would you mind saying grace?”

The other students bowed their heads. Melanie, however, simply gazed back at the headmistress. She was hoping to go at least one day without having to test her elder. But it looked like this couldn't be helped. “Yes, Ms. Landy, I would mind.”

This raised more than a few heads. Even the faculty now eyed Melanie with curiosity. The blond girl heard a snicker from Regina.

Joan's expression remained neutral, her tone flat. “And why not, child?”

“Because I don't believe in God,” Melanie responded.

This earned a few murmurs from those assembled. “That's irrelevant, Melanie,” said Joan. “You were given a direction.”

“Which I won't follow, because I don't pray,” Melanie shot back. “Besides, even if God does exist, why should we thank him for this food? He didn't do any work to make it, or bring it to us.”

The murmuring stopped. All eyes, both children and adult, were on Joan Landy. The elder woman gazed long and hard at Melanie. Then she said. “I see. Regina, will you please show our new student the proper response?”

“Yes, Ms. Landy,” Regina said. Everyone bowed their heads as Regina said grace. Joan then took her seat, followed by everyone else, and then the kitchen staff began to wheel the food out on serving carts. Various platters and bowls were placed in the centers of the tables, along with pitchers of milk and water.

“Ooh, meatloaf tonight,” Kim remarked. “Let's see if Nikolai used actual meat this time.” She forked a slice from the platter closest to them and put it on her plate, then cut a piece off the end and tasted it. After swallowing, she frowned critically. “Almost. Well, at least we have ketchup.”

Melanie ignored her, and forked her own piece from the platter. She cut off a bite, and almost gagged when she put it in her mouth. It definitely didn't compare to the more extravagant meals she'd gotten used to over the last few days. But it looked like there was also mashed potatoes and gravy, which were impossible to ruin. Melanie spooned some onto her plate and then reached for the nearest tin gravy boat. She jumped a little when her hand collided with another girl's.

“Sorry,” the girl said, this one also blond, but with freckles adorning her cheeks. “You go first.”

Melanie again said nothing, simply took the boat, poured gravy on her meat and potatoes, and put it back in the center of the table. After the freckled girl had also taken some, she said: “You're the new girl, right? My name is Niko.”

“Oh,” Melanie said. “Well, if you were at assembly, you know my name.” She then picked up her fork and started to eat what was on her plate, but she did think it interesting that the girl had a Japanese name, despite not looking Japanese.

“Niko is a whiz with electrical stuff,” Kimberly said around a mouthful of food. “Not just taking it apart, but putting it together.”

“That's nice,” said Melanie, in a tone that made it seem like she only cared about her food. But she at least filed that bit of intel away in her mind. For the rest of dinner, there was not a lot of conversation. Both Niko and Kimberly seemed curious about the new girl, but they could tell that Melanie was not in the mood for questions. Then, after about twenty-five minutes, when most of the plates were clean, the staff came and started to clear away the dishes. When they were finished, Joan stood up from her chair and once again waved everyone to silence.

“Now, then, children, I promised you all a treat due to the lack of disciplinary reports on my desk. And here it is: tonight I've ordered the staff to serve something a bit more special for dessert tonight. Enjoy!”

Her announcement was met with some applause, and the kitchen staff began to cart out bowls of ice cream, and set them in front of the students, as well as setting bowls of sundae toppings in the center of the table.

“Sweet,” Kimberly remarked, as a bowl of choclate and vanilla was placed in front of her. “Usually we just get a pudding or fruit cup.”

One of the staff was about to set a dish in front of Melanie, but Joan was soon at his side. “None for her,” she said with a shake of her head. The man nodded, and served the girl next to Melanie instead. Melanie gave Joan a quizzical look. “Rewards are earned here, Melanie,” Joan explained. “In this case, the other girls earned this by behaving well in my absence. You were not here to earn it with them.”

“Hardly _my_ fault, isn't it?” Melanie protested.

“Perhaps not. But you were disrespectful earlier, and that must be punished. Perhaps next time, you will say grace when asked to. Or perhaps you need to be given _other_ incentives to change your attitude. I'll leave that up to you.” With a curt nod, Joan turned on her heel and started back towards her table.

Both Kimberly and Niko eyed the other girl warily as they tried to top their ice cream as discreetly as possible. Melanie could tell what they were thinking and snapped: “Don't even _think_ about offering to share yours.”

“Whatever you say,” Kimberly said with a shrug, and started to eat her sundae. Niko said something similar, and also dipped her spoon. Melanie was silent for the rest of the meal, staring at the empty place in front of her, ignoring the laughter of Regina and her crew, which could still be heard even over the lively conversations of the other students, but every now and then she would glance at the headmistress out of the corner of her eye.

 _If she thinks I'll ever say grace, she's in for some disappointment. I don't care how much ice cream it costs me, I will_ never _pray to any god..._

* * *

After dinner, Melanie lost track of Kim. Which was fine, as she seemed to get along okay without her. She didn't know what time lights out was, and decided that she'd tested authority enough today. So she followed some other girls at a distance, and in doing so eventually found the dorms: a cozy-looking two-story building with creeper vines running up the red brick exterior. There was a bulletin board on the wall by the main entrance, which listed all the girls alphabetically and their room number. Melanie was not much interested in looking at the other girls' names, so she jumped straight to “M” and found her room.

It contained no furniture except for two twin beds (separated by a nightstand) and two dressers. Melanie's clothes were stacked neatly on one of the beds. The other bed had a plush doll of what looked like some sort of robot mecha resting on the pillow. Judging by the action figures set up on one of the dresser-tops, and also the poster of some anime called “Devil Hunter Yohko” tacked to the wall, Melanie had a fairly good idea of her roommate's tastes, which made her dislike this person already.

 _But as long as she stays out of my way, there won't be a problem_. She busied herself by putting the casual clothes away in the empty dresser, though she noted it wasn't completely empty. The top drawer contained a few dark brown nightshirts, and some personal hygiene items. She also noted that her name had been written on the tag of each piece of clothing that Joan had purchased yesterday. After her casual wear was put away, Melanie hung her extra school uniforms up in the closet, which was small but adequate enough to suit her purposes. Whoever her roommate was, she seemed to have taken one side to hang their own uniforms, so Melanie simply took the other.

By the time she was done putting everything away, she felt like getting ready for bed, even though she still didn't know what time lights out was. She shut the door to her room, pulled out one of the nightshirts from her top drawer, and changed into it. There was a wicker hamper in the corner of the bedroom, so Melanie gathered up the components of the uniform she'd worn today and dropped them into the hamper (she also noted that her name had been written on those tags as well).

As soon as she was done with this she heard a knock on the closed door. “Yeah, what?” She called.

“Are you decent?” Called a familiar voice. Almost too familiar.

“Uh, yeah,” Melanie said warily.

“Great!” The voice answered, and a second later the door opened to reveal Kimberly dressed in a bathrobe with a towel draped around her shoulders, her ebony hair undone from its braid and still glistening with residual moisture. The girl also had a look of extreme elation on her face, Melanie had no idea why.

“Don't you have someone else to annoy?” Melanie asked her, stretching out on her bed.

“Not really,” Kimberly answered. “I mean... this is _my_ room, too.” She entered, shut the door, and quickly changed into a pair of shorts and a brown nightshirt of her own. After hanging her robe on a peg on the door, she sat down on her own bed and started to run a comb through her hair. “I'm really glad we're rooming together, Mel. I've always been on my own, because we had an odd number of students. But now, I finally have my own roommate!”

“Most people in your position would love rooming by themselves,” Melanie said, remembering some of the sleeping situations in the orphanages of Fresno County.

“Well, I'm not most people,” said Kim. “I think it's great that I have someone to share this room with now.”

This girl was starting to make less and less sense to Melanie. “Look, what's your fucking game, Kimberly?” She snapped, sitting up sharply on her mattress.

Kimberly stopped combing, her brow wrinkled in confusion. “You asked me that earlier. I... still don't follow you.”

“Why are you being so nice?” Melanie explained. “You say that you _were_ the runt of this school until I came along? Okay, then. Now that the torch has passed to me, you should be happy that someone else is gonna start taking all the shit that you took. And if you had anything remotely resembling a brain, you would be treating me like garbage, in order to get on Regina's good side. _That's_ how the system works.”

There was a long moment of silence, during which Kimberly frowned sadly at her new roommate. “I'd be a real shitty person if I did that, Melanie. Yes, I was the runt of this school for years. And because of that, I know what you're in for with Regina and her crew. I would never wish that on _anyone_. That's why I want you to believe me when I say there _is_ no game. I'm here to help you, in any way I can.”

“Okay,” said Melanie. “You can help me by staying the fuck out of my way, and staying on your side of the room.”

Kimberly looked genuinely hurt by those words. Then her expression hardened somewhat. “Fine, if that's the way you want it.”

Melanie gave her a nod, then lay back down on her side, her back to her roommate. Kimberly ignored her, and started to re-braid her hair. After a few moments, however, Melanie turned over to face the other girl, her expression softened just a bit. “Look, Kim...” she said. “Maybe... it would be okay if you could show me the ropes around this place.”

A smile played over Kimberly lips. “Are you asking me for help?”

“Yeah... I am... you know, if you still feel like it. I'm smart enough to figure things out on my own, but if it means that much to you, then... maybe you could help me out.”

The smile grew wider. “I'd love to, Mel. Thanks!”

Melanie nodded, then turned her back to Kimberly once more and focused on sleep. _I mean, I_ will _need someone to show me where everything is in this school_ , Melanie thought. _And as soon as I don't need her anymore, I can start ignoring her again._

* * *

Long after it was lights out for her girls, Joan Landy was still in her office, getting caught up on her work. In truth, she'd rather be in bed herself, as it had been a long day. But she was expecting a call, and her caller was the sort who did not like to leave messages.

Sure enough, she soon heard the phone ring at Candace's desk, which was answered politely. A moment later, Candace rose from her desk and was standing in Joan's open doorway. “It's the director, line one,” her assistant said.

“Put him through, please,” Joan told her. “And also, shut the door.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Candace said with a curt nod, then turned back to her desk, closing the door as she went. Seconds later, the phone on the headmistress's desk started to ring. She picked up the receiver, raised it to her ear.

“Good evening, sir,” she said in her most cordial tone.

“I just finished reviewing the test results from her doctor that you faxed to me,” spoke the voice of the same man she'd talked to the other night. “Ninety-nine point nine-nine-seven percent positive match.”

“There's no doubt, sir... she even has her mother's eyes.”

“After all this time, we've found the missing daughter of Yellow Jacket.”

“Yes, sir... the wayward child has come home to us.”

The voice on the other end of the line became reproachful. “But was this truly necessary? We already had forty-nine of the subjects... that's more than enough for our purposes.”

Joan clucked her tongue. “Matthew, Chapter 18, Verse 12: 'If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them goes astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine to go to the mountains to seek the one that is straying?'”

“Some sheep are better left straying,” the director answered. “Especially if there is a chance they might be black. We both know why she was wayward in the first place.”

“That was due to the actions of an insane fool,” Joan insisted. “And perhaps she did us a favor. You've read Melanie's police file, sir. These skills she already has... and unlike the other students here, she's had no training whatsoever. Everything she's learned has been self-taught, almost as if it's instinct. With me to guide her, she could easily become our star pupil, the crown jewel in what we've been trying to achieve.”

Still, the man on the other end sounded wary. “But all these behavioral problems I've read about...”

“It's because of those problems that Melanie belongs here, where we can keep a close eye on her,” Joan insisted. “If she remained out on the lunatic fringe, there's no telling what she might grow up to be. But here she can get the proper guidance. We can mold her into something that fits our goals. Just leave her to me, sir. Once I can get her to conform, she'll likely become a richer commodity than even Regina.”

“Well, you _do_ have a way with children,” the director conceded. “Very well, I'll allow this to proceed. However, it's fair to warn you that your fate is now tied to this girl's. If you cannot get her to conform before graduation, you will suffer the consequences along with her.”

For a split-second, Joan's mouth pinched into a tight line. “I understand, sir. I won't let you down.”

“I hope not,” said the voice. Then the line disconnected. After a minute, Joan hung up on her end, as well. No sooner had the phone gone back to its cradle when she heard a knock at her door. “Enter,” she called.

Candace opened the door and took a cautious step inside. “Ms. Landy... is there anything else you need before I leave?”

The elder woman nodded. “Yes, dear. Please pour me a brandy, and then you may go.”

“Of course,” said Candace. She crossed over to an ornate wooden cabinet, opened it with a key around her neck, revealing a small “bar” of several different types of alcohol and styles of glassware. The assistant selected a snifter and poured a small measure of amber liquid into it, then locked the cabinet, placed the glass on her employer's desk, and took her leave for the night.

Joan picked up the drink, cupping it in her palm to warm the alcohol in it, then swiveled in her chair to look out the large window behind her desk, which overlooked the lush quad area. Occasionally, the bright oval of a searchlight on the fence would creep over the lawn, but other than that, it was pitch dark. She had brought order to this school, at least the type of order favored by the organization, and had kept it. It would likely be a hard road ahead, but she was sure she would succeed in her new task.

“We both have our work cut out for us, Melanie,” Joan Landy spoke to herself in the silence of her office, and took a sip of her drink, to warm the slightly icy feeling in her stomach.

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

So, I forgot to mention last chapter: Malin's SNK wiki page has a sprite of her in a school girl's uniform. The uniforms worn by the students of Clemency School are modeled after that sprite.

Also: there is a reason Melanie is an atheist at such a young age, which I'll get into in later chapters.

Next chapter: Class is in session!


	5. First Day of School

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime. “It Overtakes Me” is written by Wayne Coyne, Steven Drozd, and Michael Ivins, and is copyright Warner Brothers Records. I am posting this fic for free, and make no money off of it.

* * *

_And I'm there...  
Looking up at the sky  
And I'm scared...  
Thinking about the way that I...  
I don't understand...  
Anything at all  
And how it overpowers me  
And I am just so small  
Do I stand a chance?_

-The Flaming Lips

_Chapter Five: First Day of School_

“Hey, Melanie...”

_Midnight._

_A large red brick building._

_A woman pounds on the gate. An ugly gash on her upper left arm which has not been healing well._

“Melanie?”

_“Dear child... I pray you never learn the truth of where you came from. But if that day comes, know that your heart defines you, not your genes. You are not your mother.”_

“Wake up, Melanie.”

_“Do not be afraid, Mei Lin...”_

“Melanie!” Kimberly all but shouted into the blond girl's ear, waking her with a start. Melanie blinked rapidly and turned to see her new roommate standing over her bed, already dressed in her school uniform. “You gotta get up now, Mel! It's already five past eight!”

Melanie stretched a little under her sheets. “Oh, I do not! What's the big deal? Class starts at nine, right?”

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Mel, this is one of those times where I'm trying to help you because you don't know everything! If you don't get out of bed ASAP...”

Before Kim could explain, a heavyset woman with short, curly red hair entered their bedroom. Behind her stood several other students, all dressed in their uniforms. “Well, it seems someone thinks she can sleep in on a school day!” The woman said with a Southern accent. “We all know what to do about that, don't we, girls?”

“Uh oh!” The girls standing behind her all said at once, their voices tinged with laughter.

“Uh, Melanie was just about to get up, Ms. Wallace! Honest!” Kimberly said, trying to place herself between the dormitory supervisor and her roommate.

Ms. Wallace, however, wouldn't hear it. “I'm sorry, Kimberly, darlin', but you know the rules. So, let's wake her up!” Moving with more speed than Melanie would have thought from a woman of her size, Ms. Wallace moved to the bed, scooped up Melanie in her strong arms, sheets and all, and carried the protesting blond girl out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the dormitory showers, where Melanie was dumped most unceremoniously on the tiled floor underneath one of the shower-heads. The beefy woman then turned the cold tap on all the way, sending an icy spray cascading down onto Melanie, still tangled in her sheets and pajamas.

The girl gave a loud yelp as she was drenched in the cold water, made even worse by all the wet fabric that clung to her skin after the tap was turned off, leaving her a wretched, shivering mess. The girls standing behind Ms. Wallace giggled at the spectacle, as it had been a long time since they were last treated to it.

“Now, then, girlie,” Ms. Wallace said to Melanie. “The rules ain't flexible, and neither am I. All students are to be up before eight o'clock on a school day. No exceptions. If you have an alarm, I suggest you set it, otherwise we go through this again tomorrow.” The heavyset woman then grabbed a towel off a nearby rack and tossed it at the soaking-wet blond. “Now, then, you should probably dry off and get dressed, hon. Class starts at nine, and I don't want you to find out what happens if you're late for _that_.” So saying, Wallace turned and left the shower area, followed shortly by her audience.

After they were gone, Melanie started to untangle herself from the wet sheets and picked up the towel she'd been left. Of course, she was still in her nightshirt, which made it hard for her to really get dry. A minute later, Kimberly entered the showers, clutching another towel.

“Sorry, Mel,” she said. “I tried to warn you.”

“Well, you c-c-could have warned me last night b-b-b-before I went t-to sleep,” Melanie growled through chattering teeth.

“Yeah, I _am_ sorry about that,” said Kim. “I guess I didn't because, well... you _were_ kind of a bitch to me all day yesterday, when all I wanted to do was help you. But I promise that, from this point on, you have full disclosure. I'll tell you everything you need to know about this place, ahead of time.” Kim then held out her hand, offering Melanie the second towel.

Melanie did not move to take it right away. Instead, she thought about telling Kimberly that the deal was off. But then... a small part of her did admire the black-haired girl. Kimberly might be nice, but she'd just proven she was no doormat, either. If their positions were reversed, Melanie would probably have done the same thing to Kim. So she stood and accepted the towel. Kimberly then offered to take the wet sheets and stick them in the hamper in their room.

After she was gone, Melanie peeled off her wet nightshirt, rubbed herself down with one of the towels, then wrapped the other around her torso and went back to her dorm room. Once there, she dried off proper and changed into her school uniform. “Come on, Mel, we should probably hustle,” Kimberly said while her roommate was running a comb through her still-damp hair. “We hurry, we can catch some breakfast before class.”

“Right.” Melanie tossed her comb on her dresser-top, and the two girls darted from the room, down the hall, and out of the dorms.

Most of the other girls had eaten by the time that Melanie and Kimberly had gotten to the dining hall. But a few remained, most notably Regina and her “entourage,” two of them sitting on either side of her. The five girls seemed to be engaged in a lively conversation, though Regina did most of the talking. Breakfast was usually served buffet style, and today was no exception, so the smaller girls loaded their trays with whatever looked good to them (which was hard, since most of the breakfast options were healthy, thanks to Joan's iron fist when it came to nutrition) and took seats as far from the Alphas as they could.

“So, you've met Regina,” Kimberly said while keeping her gaze fixed on the bowl of Raisin Bran in front of her, avoiding eye contact with the taller blond. “And you _were_ right yesterday. She is the 'lioness' of this place, or 'big bitch' if you will. Now I'll introduce you to the jackals who feed off her scraps.”

Melanie nodded and munched on a banana, also not looking directly at the clique. “The lesser cunts. Gotcha.”

“So, from left to right, there's Lacey,” - Kimberly pointed with her spoon at a girl with hair a darker shade of blond than Regina or Melanie, kept up in a bun - “Janis,” - she next indicated a brown-haired girl with deep hazel eyes - “Sunako,” - the third girl in line who sat to Regina's immediate left (their right), and looked like a Japanese/American mix, her long black hair done up in pigtails - “and finally Amanda.” The last one in line was an auburn-haired girl with green eyes who looked to be close to Regina's height. And unless she was padding herself, she was already starting to develop like Regina. “And there you have it, Mel,” Kimberly finished. “The pack of our school.” She then turned back to her cereal and started to eat it more rapidly, knowing that they were pressed for time.

Melanie popped the last bite of banana in her mouth and set the peel on her tray. “So how do they operate?” She asked after taking a sip of orange juice.

“Depends on Regina,” Kimberly answered with her mouth full. “She lets them prey on the people she doesn't consider to be under her protection, as long as they don't go too far, and remember who their boss is. And even then... if Regina's in a good mood, they're not as hard. But if she's in a bad mood... well, do your best not to draw their attention.”

Melanie shrugged, and unwrapped her granola bar. “That's hardly surprising. Those who get beaten by the people above them will in turn beat the people below them. That's every fake parent I've ever had, in a nutshell. How the world works, really. There's two kinds of people in the world: those who get stepped on, and those who do the stepping.”

Kimberly had finished her cereal and moved on to her blueberry yogurt. She paused in the action of bringing the spoon to her mouth after hearing those words. “Jesus, Mel. No wonder you don't trust anybody. What sorts of places have you _been_ to?”

The petite blond gave another shrug. “Doesn't really matter, does it? It's in the past. And I'm sure they're no different from some of the places _you've_ been.” She then sprinkled some salt on a hard-boiled egg and stuffed it in her mouth.

“Actually, I've been here for as long as I can remember,” Kimberly said.

“Lucky you, then,” Melanie responded with her mouth still full. Shortly after she swallowed, both girls sensed the presence of Regina and her crew standing over them. The other four stood slightly behind their “boss,” all wearing smug looks.

“So, let's try this again, runt,” said Regina. “You got any money for me?”

“Sure do,” Melanie answered, with an enthusiasm that surprised Kimberly. She reached into the pocket of her vest, pulled out a penny, and flipped it in the taller girl's direction. “Don't spend it all in one place.”

Regina made no move to grab it, instead she let it bounce off of her and clatter onto the floor. “You're not taking me seriously, runt,” she growled. “Do you _want_ your life here to be hell?”

“I've _been_ to hell,” Melanie said. “You don't measure up. And anyway, you said you wanted money. You didn't say how much.”

“Whatever you've got, you little bitch,” Regina said through clenched teeth. “You owe me tribute.”

“For what?” Melanie's tone was bored as she took another bite of her granola bar.

“To let you walk the halls of this school without looking over your shoulder,” was the answer.

The girls behind the lead female were all snickering at this point. “You should kick her ass, Regina,” Janis said.

Melanie shrugged. “You'll get what I feel like giving you,” she told the tall blond.

Regina looked ready to take Janis's suggestion seriously, and then one of the kitchen staff appeared. “You girls better run along to class,” they said. “It's almost nine.”

“Right,” Kimberly said, trying to extinguish the situation. “Let's all get going.”

Regina and her crew stood there another moment, then they turned and stalked off. The staff member left as well, and Melanie cast a quick glance around. No adults seemed to be watching, so she picked the banana peel up off her plate, and flicked her wrist, tossing it as discreetly as she could in Regina's direction. It landed in front of her feet, and the Alpha wound up slipping and falling onto her bottom.

She was back up in seconds, murderous rage in her blue eyes, fingers of both hands curled into hooks like she was ready to tear Melanie to shreds with them. “What's wrong?” Melanie said with a laugh. “I thought gorillas liked bananas!” After saying this, the smaller blond glanced over at Kimberly, expecting to also see her laughing. Instead, her roommate wore a look of concern.

Regina sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, and was about to start forward, when Sunako put her hand on Regina's shoulder. “We can't be late for class,” the dark-haired girl reminded her. “You'll get your chance later today. There's always gym period.”

These words seemed to calm Regina down, so she relaxed her hands and straightened herself. “Enjoy this while you can, runt!” She growled. “After lunch, you're mine!”

“Ooh, I just shit myself, I'm so scared!” Melanie retorted as Regina stormed out of the cafeteria with her crew trying to keep up. After they were gone, Melanie started laughing to herself, and upon glancing at Kim out of the corner of her eye, was surprised to see the other girl not laughing along with her. Instead, she looked annoyed. “What? What'd I do?” Melanie asked, her laughter ceasing.

“Damn it, Mel, I _just_ finished telling you how they work!” Kimberly said. “If Regina is mad, so is the rest of her posse, and then they're gonna take it out on the girls who are below them in the order!”

“I don't believe in order,” Melanie said, snapping off another bite of her granola bar. “Also, given my current position as the 'new runt,' I'm finding it hard to care about the other girls of this school. If they had any balls, they'd fight back.”

Kimberly's light brown eyes took on a look of actual worry. “You may want to be careful there, Melanie. The way things are set up here, I almost feel like Landy _wants_ the order to be this way, for some reason.”

Melanie just shrugged and crunched the last of her granola. “Maybe this place needs a little anarchy. Most of the places I've lived could have used some.”

Kimberly seemed ready to say something else. Instead, she ate the last bite of her yogurt, then stood and picked up her tray. “Come on, let's book. We gotta hustle to make it to class on time.”

Melanie grabbed her own tray, and after they had been deposited in one of the bins, Kimberly started walking as fast as she could down the hall, with Melanie following her. All around them, other uniformed girls seemed to be doing the same thing. After they stepped outside, Kim led Melanie to the building Mel had been in yesterday with the infirmary, confirming the blond's suspicions.

“We're grouped into sections,” Kimberly explained, leading Melanie down the hallway of what Mel had dubbed the “school building.” They stopped by a large pegboard, which Kim scanned rapidly with her finger. Melanie followed with her eyes, drinking in as much as she could off what was posted on that board. “Oh, cool!” Her guide said after a minute. “You and I are in the same section. So our first class is English. Come on, let's move. We only have a few minutes.”

“What about books?” Melanie asked.

Kim continued speaking as she walked rapidly, with Melanie trying to keep up. “The classrooms are pretty well-stocked with things like notebooks and pencils. You can take what you need as you need it. As for the textbooks, if it's your first day, your book should be on your desk.” They rounded a corner, coming to a corridor that was lined with lockers, twenty-five on each side. Other students were milling about, trying to get what they needed in time to beat the bell. As most of her foster parents had neglected her schooling, Melanie had almost forgotten what this chaos felt like.

Kim stopped at a locker with her name on it, quickly entered the combination, and opened it. After a quick rummage, she yanked out her English book. “We can find your locker later,” she said. “It should have your name on it, and Landy's assistant can issue you your combination. But right now, you don't need anything out of it.” Then they were off at a brisk pace again.

They made it over the threshold of the classroom door just a few seconds before the bell rang for nine o'clock. Kimberly breathed a huge sigh of relief and started towards her desk. The other girls were already seated. Melanie noticed there were only eight of them.

“For classes, they split us into five sections,” Kim explained. “Makes it easier for faculty to grade our stuff.”

“Regina and her jackals aren't here, so you won't hear me complaining,” Melanie said. She noticed an empty desk right next to Kimberly's, with a wrapped hardbound book sitting on top of it. The small blond quickly moved to the back of the room, grabbed an empty notebook, a pencil and a black Sharpie from a bookcase that seemed to be well-stocked, and then took the desk that was clearly meant for her.

A minute later, a twenty-something woman whose overall appearance could be described as “bookish” entered the room and took up her place behind the larger teacher's desk. “Good morning, girls,” she said cheerfully.

“Good morning, Ms. Kelly,” every girl except Melanie said in unison.

“I hope we can finish up our work on sentence structure this week, so we can start on your reading lists,” Ms. Kelly continued in the same tone. “Everyone, please open your books to page forty-two.”

Melanie tore the plastic seal off her book, stuffed the trash inside her desk and quickly did as asked. The teacher busied herself by writing a sentence up on the dry erase board. Nothing special, just one of the standard textbook sentences akin to quick brown foxes jumping over lazy dogs.

After she was done writing, Kelly turned and faced the girls again. “Melanie,” she addressed the petite blonde. “As the new face in our group, I'd like to get to know you a little better. Please read the sentence on the board aloud, then identify the subject, predicate, and nouns.”

Melanie was able to read the sentence, though she stumbled a little on the longer words. Then a tense silence filled the room, as she had no idea how to identify anything she'd been told to. Finally, she ventured: “The subject is... what the sentence is about? And that other thing... is also important.”

This earned a few giggles from the other girls except for Kimberly. After a moment, Ms. Kelly asked her: “And... can you identify the nouns?”

“They're words,” Melanie retorted. “I can read them. Why does that other stuff matter?”

The bookish-looking woman frowned and walked over to Melanie's desk. “Let's talk outside,” she said, offering her student a hand. Melanie tried to ignore the giggles as she accepted the hand, and was led out into the hallway.

Ms. Kelly looked concerned, a look Melanie had come to recognize based off her limited public school experience. _One where the teacher thinks you're stupid._

“Melanie, please be honest with me,” the English teacher said. “I need to understand where you are so I can better help you. So to start, you... _do_ know how to read and write?”

“Yeah, I know enough to get by,” Melanie answered. “The penguins at the orphanage taught me.”

“But, there's technical aspects, as well,” said Ms. Kelly. “Do you know nouns? Verbs? Adjectives? Adverbs? Pronouns?”

“Words are words,” Melanie retorted. “As long as I can read them, who cares?”

“I see.” For a few moments, Ms. Kelly stared up at the ceiling. Then she said: “This concerns me, Melanie. I'll... speak with the headmistress later. But for now, please try to follow along with the rest of the class as best you can.”

They went back inside, and Melanie took her seat, ignoring the looks she was getting from a few of the other girls. The rest of the class more or less went smoothly. Melanie read what was in her book along with everyone else, though a few of the larger words still tripped her up, and jotted a few things down in her notebook that she thought might be useful later. When the bell rang forty-five minutes later, and they could speak freely again, Kim asked her roommate: “Everything okay?”

“I don't wanna talk about it,” Melanie said bluntly, picking up her books and tucking her pencil and marker into the pocket of her vest.

So the two girls proceeded to the next class, which was math. It turned out to be a repeat of last class, as they were learning fractions, and Melanie was forced to admit to her teacher (a balding, dark-skinned man in a tweed blazer and red bowtie who introduced himself as Mr. Coleman) that she knew how to add and subtract, and knew about the multiplication table, but everything beyond that was a mystery to her. Like Kelly, Coleman expressed concern, and said he would notify Landy of it when lunchtime rolled around.

Much to Melanie's dismay, this time Amanda was present in the classroom, and was certain to draw attention to it. When Coleman had to step out into the hallway for a minute to deal with another matter, she sniped at Melanie: “Looks like the runt is also a retard,'” which earned laughter from a few of the other girls. Melanie scraped her fingernails slowly across the lacquered surface of her desk, then she felt Kimberly's hand on her shoulder.

“Pick and choose your battles, Mel,” she whispered. “Not here, not now. They'll give you other chances.”

“Wasting your time helping her, runt number two,” Amanda said to the black-haired girl. “She can't even multiply.”

“You don't need to know multiplication to know how to punish a skank,” Melanie fired back before Kim could say anything. This also got some laughter from those assembled, much to Amanda's extreme displeasure. Before things could escalate any further, the teacher re-entered the room.

For the rest of class, Melanie once more tried to follow along as best she could. When class was dismissed, she and Kimberly let Amanda leave first, then found an excuse to dawdle for a minute before venturing onto their next class. It was Social Studies, and it was a repeat of the other two. Melanie was almost relieved when the bell rang for lunch. She managed to find time to stop by Joan's office and get her locker combination, which made her feel even better, since she could get rid of her accursed books.

The relief didn't last long, however. In the dining hall, the students and faculty stood behind their chairs, just as they'd done for dinner last night. And just as she'd done at dinner, Joan turned her gaze to Melanie and asked her: “Melanie, dear, will you say grace?”

Silence. For a brief moment, Melanie's dark brown eyes met with the ice blue of the headmistress. Then the small girl slipped her hands down through the belt around her skirt.

“Melanie, dear,” Joan repeated in a firmer tone. “I gave you a direction.”

More silence. Melanie turned her gaze away from Joan to stare at the ceiling. “The staff are waiting to serve lunch, child,” Joan said, trying a different approach. “People are hungry.”

This earned a reply from Melanie: “Good for them.”

The dining hall began to fill with grumbles from the other students. A few of them were whispering for Melanie to get on with it. Joan allowed that to circulate for a minute, then she asked: “Do you honestly not care if we all go hungry?”

Now Melanie turned to meet Joan's gaze again, her brown eyes like stone. “Not really. But if we _do_ go hungry, it's because of you. Ask someone else.”

Joan studied the petite blond girl for a very long time, her icy blue gaze unwavering. “Very well, then,” she finally said. She then moved her gaze to address a man with short gray hair dressed in chef's whites standing by the entrance to the kitchen. “Nikolai, your staff are not to serve Melanie any lunch. Is that understood?”

“It is, ma'am,” the man said with a nod.

“Thank you,” Joan said. Then she pointed at another girl: “Meghan, will you please show Melanie the proper response?”

The girl so named bowed her head and said grace. After this, both students and faculty sat down, and the staff began to serve the meal. No plate was placed in front of Melanie, and Joan even ordered a kitchen staff member to stand behind her chair and make sure the girl didn't try to sneak anything off the platters in the middle of the table.

Kimberly was mostly silent, just munching on her ham and cheese sandwich. When she was almost done, she leaned over and said in a low voice: “Gotta say, Mel, this isn't earning you a lot of points with the other girls.”

“Why would I want to?” Melanie asked with a defiant shrug.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “You are a stubborn bitch, Mel, but even you have to realize that you are _going_ to need allies in this place. Did you hear what Landy said to you just now? She is playing this card perfectly, using it to make you look like the bad guy.”

“Not my fault if the other girls are too stupid to see the truth,” Melanie shot back.

Kimberly once more found herself questioning why she was caring so much about her roommate. “Melanie, this is one of those times where I think it would be better in the long run for you to just do what Landy says. It's... diplomatic.”

Niko, who was sitting across from Melanie, peeling an orange, added her two cents. “I'm actually smart enough to see the truth, and I agree with Kim.”

“No,” the other blond girl said firmly. “I'll _never_ pray.”

“Why not?” Kim asked her.

Melanie took a deep breath. Images from one of her foster homes flashed through her mind, a heavy Bible that even an adult needed two hands to carry, a stern visage of a conservatively dressed woman working a heavy leather strap over her bare legs. She considered saying something, but then remembered what she'd told herself yesterday. _You don't need anyone. And it's not like they really care what happened to you._ She let the breath out and said: “It's not important.”

Kimberly sensed some unspoken pain from the past and reached out a hand. “Mel, you know that I'm...”

“Drop it, okay?” The blond girl snapped.

“Fine,” Kimberly growled, and picked up her sandwich once more. Niko did the same with her own food, eyes fixed down on her plate.

After Kim had taken a few bites, she felt Melanie's hand on her shoulder. She turned, and saw the same expression she'd seen right before bed last night, the briefest flicker of softness in those brown eyes.

“Sorry,” Melanie muttered. “I... get cranky when I'm hungry.”

“Forget it,” Kim said with her mouth full.

“Doesn't mean I'm gonna tell you what the deal is, though,” Melanie said as she withdrew her hand. “My past is private.”

“No surprises there,” Kimberly said with a laugh.

For the rest of lunch, the three girls were silent. As the meal was winding down, Joan made her way over to their table and told Melanie she wanted to see the girl in her office right after lunch. The teacher for her next class had already been informed, so Melanie would not be penalized for being tardy. After Joan had walked away, Kimberly wore a worried look, but decided not to say anything, since Melanie didn't appear concerned. Instead, she simply gave her roommate directions for finding the next class, then got up and left the dining hall.

Melanie managed to find Joan's office on her own (which was easy, since it was in the same building as the dining hall, and she'd just been there yesterday), and she entered to find Candace at her desk, shredding what looked to be old mail. “She's expecting you, Melanie,” the assistant said when she noticed the petite blond, and gestured to the open door of the office beyond.

Melanie entered the actual office to find Joan Landy seated behind her desk in a leather chair. A smaller chair, also made of leather, was on the opposite end. There was little else in the room except a tall, ornate cabinet that appeared locked, and also a cardboard box. If Melanie didn't know any better, it was the same cardboard box that her confiscated snacks had gone in yesterday.

“Take a seat, dear,” Joan said, gesturing to the smaller desk. Melanie did as asked. As she was sitting down, Candace shut the door behind her, and then went back to her desk to resume her shredding.

For a moment, Melanie wondered if she was going to receive more punishment over the “grace” incident. Not that it mattered to her. It was unclear from Joan's expression just what the headmistress had summoned her for. Then she spoke: “Melanie, I learned some things at lunch today that... concern me.”

“Like what, Ms. Landy?” Melanie said with a shrug.

“Based on what your teachers told me, you don't seem to know as much as a girl your age should.”

“I thought you said I was smarter than most other kids, Ms. Landy,” Melanie fired back.

“Well, there are different kinds of smart,” Joan clarified, “You are _definitely_ very street-savvy. But that can only take you so far. Your academic skills are, sadly, in need of improvement.”

There was no response to this, as Melanie was starting to wonder if maybe this school was no different from any other in her life. She thought she would be learning life skills, and now she was being told _book smart_ was important?

When it became clear her young charge had no response, Joan went on: “Melanie, what has your schooling been like so far?”

Another shrug. “Like I told the teachers, I learned stuff from the penguins at the orphanage. I had a few fake parents who made sure I went to school, but I didn't stay with any of them long enough for it to matter. And the rest of my fake parents... just never cared.”

“I see.” Joan pursed her lips and leaned forward, fingers steepled in front of her stern face. “Melanie, it's painfully clear that you're behind the other girls in your studies. I think you could benefit from some tutoring on the weekends, just until you catch up. Also, I try to discourage the teachers from assigning homework, since studies have shown there is no proof that it actually helps children. But I feel you should take a small assignment back to your dorm in the evenings.”

Melanie once more felt the urge to run away rising. “Why? What's the big deal? I can read, and I can write, and I can add and subtract.”

“You can, dear,” Joan conceded, “but it is important that a girl your age be able to do those things at a... certain level.”

“I thought I was gonna learn useful things here,” Melanie said.

“And you will, my child,” Joan insisted. “But in order for you to learn these skills, there are other things you have to learn as well. You _are_ street-savvy, Melanie, and we will cultivate your gifts there, but the knowledge in books should not just be cast aside. There are things you can take away from them. Just as there are things you can learn from my efforts to... help you be more of a proper lady.”

The blond girl knew that the headmistress was referring to grace, but still looked unconvinced. So Joan went on: “Melanie, whether or not you believe it, I want what's best for all the children under my charge. So this is all to help you be that person you want to be, even if you don't completely trust me.”

Anything further she was about to say was interrupted by a knock at the half open door. Both Joan and Melanie turned their heads to see Candace standing there. “Sorry to disturb you, ma'am, but the Dirakuta is on the line, he says it's urgent.”

Joan below out a harsh breath through her nostrils. “Very well. Excuse me, Melanie, I have to take this, it will only be a moment.” So saying, she rose from her chair and left the office, shutting the door behind her, though it was still left open an inch.

Melanie peered out through the crack in the doorway, saw Joan standing by Candace's desk, arguing in what sounded like Japanese with whoever was on the other line. Her dark eyes flicked towards the box resting on the floor behind her chair. Moving with the same cat-like stealth that she'd shown on the night of her arrest, Melanie got up from the chair, padded across the hardwood floor, her dress shoes making no sound (given the number of deadbeat foster homes she'd been in, she'd learned to traverse many different types of floors in many different styles of footwear, without making a sound). Upon reaching the box, she peered in and saw a cornucopia of “contraband” snacks, including the ones she'd had taken from her yesterday.

Melanie gave an almost predatory smile, then she remembered herself and cast another glance at the door. Landy was still engrossed in her conversation, and did not seem to notice what the petite blond was doing. So Melanie grabbed several snacks from the box, choosing the ones that did not have noisy wrappers, and tucked them as quietly as she could inside the vest of her uniform. Then she padded back to her chair and sat down.

And not a moment too soon. For the second she took her seat back, Joan said, “Tanoshinde ne” to whoever she was talking to, then hung up the phone and re-entered her office.

“Think on what I said, Melanie, I beg you,” Joan told her as she sat back down. “The more well-rounded you are, the easier it will be for you.”

“I'll think about it,” Melanie said, in a tone which clearly meant she had no intention of doing so.

Joan appeared unfazed. Instead, her matronly visage seemed almost smug. “Well, Melanie, when I said that I want you to think on it, I mean that I'd like you to someday appreciate the wisdom of my decision. Because you are being given a direction. Expect your first assignment tomorrow evening. I will let your teachers decide your lesson plans, as they are more than capable.”

Melanie glared at her elder, brown eyes like smoldering embers. “Oh, come on! Why should I have to do extra...”

“Because it is necessary in the long run, dear,” Joan answered. “And who knows? Perhaps eventually, you might find a reason to _want_ to better yourself. You'll see this school has much to offer. Now go back to class, Melanie.” Joan gave a dismissive wave of the fingers on her right hand, then resumed poring over the work on her desk. Melanie got up from the chair and exited, giving Candace a nonchalant grunt in response to the assistant's cheerful goodbye as Melanie brushed past her desk.

She waited until she was outside and around the corner before she cast a glance around. Satisfied no one was watching, she pulled out one of the snack foods she'd swiped from the office (a bag of jalapeno potato chips), opened them, and quickly wolfed them down. Then she resumed walking, crumpling the bag and tossing it into a trashcan she passed. After a minute, she pulled another snack from inside her vest and started on that, satisfied that she had at least won this small victory over Landy.

 _Didn't say grace, and I still got something to eat, you pompous cunt_ , Melanie thought with a smile of satisfaction. Though as she stepped outside and started back towards the school building, she once more found herself racking her brain for a reason to stay. Joan talked about eventual payoffs, but it was easy for her to _say_ those things when Melanie still had no idea what those might be. And she still didn't feel like trusting the older woman.

The young blond continued down the stone path. Still checking to see no one was watching, she pulled a 3 Musketeers bar from her vest and peeled down the wrapper. _This place is starting to seem more like every orphanage I ever broke out of_ , she thought as she slowly chewed a bite, letting the nougat melt on her tongue. _In which case, maybe I should start thinking of how to break free of this one..._

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

Once again, I need to put in a chapter break. I intended for Melanie's first day of class to be one chapter, but once again, these characters are writing themselves, instead of letting me write them. So the word count is running away on me.

“Tanodshinde ne” is Japanese for “have a good day.” And “Dirakatua” is Japanese for “director.” When the director calls and there is a student present, Joan and her staff speak Japanese. There is a reason for this which will become apparent eventually.

And the name Ms. Wallace is a reference to the late, great Marcia Wallace, who voiced Edna Krabappel on the Simpsons since the show's beginnings (back when I was the same age Melanie is in this chapter; damn, I'm old now!), until the year she passed.

Up next: Melanie's first day of class is not over yet. And it takes an interesting twist.


	6. Motivation

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the anime.

* * *

_Chapter Six: Motivation_

The rest of the day went as well it could, considering the circumstances. Science class was a repeat of the other three classes, though afterwards Melanie and her section got to work in the computer lab. The blond girl _did_ know a thing or two about computers, and so for the first time all day she didn't feel stupid. Kimberly hadn't asked what Landy had wanted, though she had an idea, but she kept it to herself. Which Melanie was grateful for.

After the bell rang on Computer Labs, it was almost three o'clock. Kimberly said their schoolwork was done for the day, and now they needed to get ready for gym class. “You don't wanna be late for that,” Kim told her roommate. “Or else the sarge will make you do laps.”

“Sarge?” Melanie asked her.

“That's what we call Mr. Hartman,” Kimberly explained. “He's the gym teacher. And it's kinda funny... he actually likes it when we call him that. Now, come on. Let's put our books away and then I'll show you where the changing rooms are.”

After they'd deposited their school things into their respective lockers, Kim led Melanie outside the school building and to another part of the facility, one that Melanie had not seen before. There was a large, open expanse of brown dirt field, which had what looked almost like an obstacle course at one end. Off to the side, there was a gray stone building (more like an over-sized shed) which Kimberly guided Mel towards.

Inside there were benches, lockers and showers, and a few scattered toilet stalls. Most of the girls were already assembled (Kim explained that gym class was the one period where all the students studied together), and were changing out of their school uniforms into what could best be described as a “field uniform.” Regina and her pack had already finished changing and were making their way outside. “Get ready to die, runt,” Regina whispered as the Alphas brushed past Melanie and her roommate, words that were met with cold laugher from the other four in the group.

Melanie found her locker, which was next to Kimberly's, and opened it to find the same uniform every other girl was changing into: black spandex shorts, form-fitting white skirt, long-sleeved white undershirt, with a brown short-sleeved pullover that went on over it. The petite blond cast another glance around the room, saw that most of the girls had finished changing and were on their way out. She looked back to Kimberly, who had stripped off her school uniform and was pulling on her shorts.

“Come on, Mel, you gotta move,” the dark-haired girl admonished. “I'll be your guide, but I'd hate to have to do laps with you. The sarge is a bit of a dictator.”

Melanie cast another look around the locker room. Those few girls who remained seemed to be ignoring her. So Melanie started to remove her school uniform and put on the clothes provided in her locker. On one of the shelves, she saw a brown bandanna and black finger-less leather gloves. She slipped on the gloves (like everything else, they were a perfect fit), but didn't know what to do with the bandanna, until she looked over at Kimberly. Her roommate was coiling her french braid up against her head, then she tied the bandanna around her scalp. “Loose hair is a no-no for gym,” she explained.

Melanie nodded, and then fixed her own bandanna in place, tucking her blond hair into it in the back. She then noticed that on the floor of her locker was a pair of yellow sneakers, and a pair of what looked like some ugly, knee-high socks, the same color as her pullover, and also with the same vertical stripes that were on the sides of her shirts and skirt.

“Um... do I have to wear those socks?” Melanie asked.

“Believe me, Mel, you do,” Kimberly answered. She'd just pulled on her own socks and was now lacing her sneakers. “Nothing about our uniforms is optional. Ask the few girls who Landy gave detention to when they tried to customize.”

Melanie shrugged and started to don them. “They look so stupid, though,” she said, glancing down at her legs with a scowl.

Kim responded with a shrug of her own. “Well, they _do_ have a practical use. You could hide a weapon or two inside of them.”

“But what's the point?” Melanie asked. “We already have these.” She pulled out the last item in her locker, a black satchel intended to be worn at the hip, and strapped it around her waist.

“Someone could cut the strap in the heat of combat,” Kimberly said. “Then you won't have it anymore.”

Though Melanie showed no outward sign, she was slightly taken aback by the dark-haired girl's response. Not what she'd been expecting. _Maybe I will learn some useful shit here, after all_ , she thought, and started lacing up her own sneakers.

As she was finishing, she felt Kimberly fiddle with the strap for the satchel at her waist. “Not too tight, Mel,” she said. “You want it to hang off the hip just a little. There we go. Now, let's get out there before the sarge does.”

Both girls scooped up their school uniforms and exited, depositing the clothing in a hamper on the way out. They emerged into the still-bright afternoon, and began walking to where the other girls were gathered on the large, dirt practice field. As she moved, Melanie had to admit that while she didn't like the socks, this uniform was definitely more comfortable than the academic one. _I just wish the skirt was a little longer,_ she thought with just a hint of self-consciousness.

Then she pushed that thought out of her mind and asked her roommate: “So, what types of stuff do we learn at gym?”

“Self-defense, mostly,” Kimberly said. “At least, so far. Eventually, Hartman says he wants to incorporate some more offensive fighting styles. When the whole class is ready.”

“Really? Fighting?” Melanie found herself remembering what Kim just said in the change room. “So, I guess maybe this _isn't_ your average school after all. The penguins never taught me any fighting, just a load of bullshit about turning the other cheek that never worked on any of my fake parents.”

There were things Kimberly wanted to say in response to that, but she doubted that the blond wanted to hear them. So instead she replied with: “Hartman is a pretty good teacher, Mel. Really knows his shit. He's one of the few where I really think you shouldn't try to challenge him.”

“We'll see,” Melanie said with a shrug, and then they finally reached the gathering group of their fellow school girls. They arrived in the nick of time, as a gruff voice then boomed across the field, calling them all to silence.

“Attention!” The voice then shouted as the gossip died down. Melanie turned her head slightly towards where it came from, saw a man who looked just as gruff as he sounded, with a barrel chest, squared jaw, and graying hair cut smartly into a crew style, making his way across the dry, dusty ground towards the assembly. He was dressed in khakis and black boots, with a pair of sunglasses hanging from his breast pocket.

Melanie then felt a tap on her shoulder. “Come on, Mel, we gotta get in line!” Kimberly whispered. The blond girl turned her gaze back towards the group, saw them quickly moving into a rank-and-file formation of ten across and five deep. The two roommates quickly found spots towards the back, and Kimberly immediately went rigid. Melanie thought it best to do the same.

The gruff man stopped walking when he was a few yards away from the rigid assembly, and then clapped his hands behind his back. “All right, ladies, I understand we have a new student with us today.” His gray eyes swept over the girls, stopping on the petite blond in the back row who was trying to blend in. “Melanie, is it?”

“Um... yes, sir,” Melanie said with a hesitant nod.

“Well, Melanie, I'm Mr. Hartman,” the gym teacher said in a tone as gruff as his demeanor. “It's my responsibility to teach you a set of skills you can't learn in a classroom. And I take that job seriously. Ms. Landy might be the headmistress, but here on the field, my word is law. Remember those things, and we'll get along fine.”

Melanie disliked him already, as he was another reminder of one of her more “conservative” foster homes. But she simply nodded again. “Yes... sir.”

Hartman gave a nod, then addressed the class as a whole. “All right, ladies, let's start with some exercise.”

The class spent the next fifteen minutes doing some basic calisthenics, after which time, Hartman ordered a rest period. Many of the girls simply sat down on the field where they'd been exercising. A few walked over to a cooler that sat on the grassy area, which was full of water bottles. Melanie was part of the latter group, as she'd worked up a bit of a sweat. It wasn't that she was out of shape. Life as a runaway kept her pretty active. But she definitely wasn't used to the repetitive motions of exercise.

After a few minutes had gone by, Hartman blew his whistle and ordered the girls into a wide circle in the dirt of the practice field. Melanie found a spot away from the Alphas, between two other blond girls she didn't know, and plunked down with her water, seating herself pretzel-legged.

Hartman stood in the center of the circle, once more appearing rigid and in command. And once more, his steely gaze came around to the new student. “Now, Melanie, I'd like to know: have you had any defensive training in your life?”

Melanie fidgeted slightly in the dirt, not comfortable with the extra scrutiny. “Um... no, Mr. Hartman,” she answered.

“Very well, then. I'd like to gauge what your current skill level is.” He then addressed the assembly as a whole once more. “I need a volunteer to spar with Melanie.”

A few hands went up in the circle, until Regina raised her own hand, at which point they all went down. “I'd be happy to volunteer, sarge,” the taller blond said in her sweetest tone.

Hartman nodded in approval. “Outstanding. Regina is one of my best students, Melanie. So pay close attention to what she has to show you.” Regina got to her feet and stepped into the circle as Hartman left it. The gray-haired man motioned for Melanie to do the same. The smaller blond took a deep breath and got to her feet, then stepped into the circle and moved to the opposite end Regina stood at. Melanie's dark brown eyes flicked over to Kimberly, who mouthed the words _be careful_ to her roommate. Melanie then looked over at Regina, who mouthed out: _you're mine._

“All right, take your positions,” Hartman said to the two girls.

Regina immediately assumed a stance, her feet shoulder-width apart, her right arm raised level with her face, elbow jutting out in front. “Put 'em up, runt!” She said, a look of obvious pleasure. Melanie, uncertain of what do to in this situation, raised her own fists in front of her face in the stance of a boxer.

“Begin!” Hartman shouted.

Regina started by moving left around the edge of the circle, her steps light, her upper body swaying in time with her footfalls. Melanie circled in the same direction, her own steps just as nimble, if not more. Moving quickly and quietly was second nature to her, but what to do with her fists... that was something else. So she hung back, content to let her opponent make the first move.

Regina seemed to sense this, and so she lunged forward more quickly than Melanie had been expecting. The smaller girl tried to figure out what her opponent's move might be, and threw her right fist forward in a jab. Regain swiveled her upper body to avoid it, and countered with a hard left haymaker to Melanie's face, her fist connecting below the right eye, sprawling her opponent into the dirt.

“Ow...” Melanie said blankly, in the same tone she'd used yesterday.

“Get up!” Regina snarled. “We're not done yet!”

“Can you go on, Melanie?” Hartman asked from the sidelines.

Melanie would rather have just continued to lie there, but decided that it wouldn't do to show weakness in front of the rest of the class. So she got to her feet and once more resumed her awkward boxing stance. Regina did not wait this time, made it seem like she was going to throw a high one, prompting Melanie to bring her forearms together in front of her face.

Regina never threw that punch, however, and having successfully psyched out her opponent, crouched and swept her leg across Melanie's shins, knocking the smaller girl into the dirt once more. Melanie was about to rise to her feet again when she saw Regina trying to bring her knee down on her opponent's ribs. The wiry blond quickly rolled out of the way of the hammer blow and staggered to her feet.

Not a second too soon, as the taller blond was relentless. She came at Melanie more quickly than the smaller girl was anticipating. Thinking fast, Melanie quickly scooped up a handful of the dry dirt at her feet and tossed it at Regina's face. Regina saw what was happening at the last second and tried to swivel her head away, but she still wound up getting some grit in her eye. She stopped in her advance and backpedaled a few steps, wiping her face to try and clear her vision. Melanie took the opportunity to lunge forward, bringing her fist into the taller woman's gut.

Regina grunted, but otherwise didn't seem fazed. So Melanie brought the opposite fist forward to land another hit. By now, Regina had mostly recovered from the blinding attempt, and the next hit Melanie tried to land was deflected, and followed by a headbutt harder than the one she'd taken yesterday, this one slamming against her forehead.

As Melanie was reeling from this, Regina launched a kick that caught Melanie square in the stomach, causing her to double over. This was followed by a knee to the face, once more making Melanie's nose bleed. Melanie managed to block a right punch with her left hand, but was unprepared for the body blow from Regina's left knee. She tried to counter with another right jab, but Regina grabbed her fist, used that leverage to move in close and slam her right elbow into Melanie's jaw.

“Don't knock out any teeth, Regina!” Hartman admonished from his place outside the circle of girls. “Remember: Ms. Landy doesn't want permanent damage to any of her students.”

“Don't worry, sarge,” Regina said with a sadistic leer. “I know exactly what I'm doing.”

Melanie staggered backwards several paces from that last blow, and Regina stayed where she was at first, no doubt waiting to see if the new meat was finally ready to offer the proper tribute. Melanie appeared to be a bit unsteady, but remained standing, and after a moment, spit blood onto the dry dirt. “Is that all ya got, you pussy?” She said with a defiant laugh.

At hearing that, Regina was on her like a swarm of flies on a rotten carcass. The attack seemed to come from everywhere, and it was all Melanie could do to block what she could to minimize the blows. A half-minute later, she was face-down in the dirt, a stabbing pain in her belly as Regina kicked her repeatedly in the stomach.

“Enough, Regina!” Hartman shouted.

The Alpha girl responded by kicking Melanie in the stomach yet again.

“ _Enough!_ ” The gym teacher repeated in a firmer tone. “The match is clearly over. You kick her one more time, it's detention!”

Regina had been rearing her leg back, but brought it to the ground once more and blew out a sharp breath. She got down on one knee next to Melanie, doubled over and coughing, and whispered: “I'd lay off the bananas if I were you, runt!” Then she rose, and walked back to the edge of the ring, where she was greeted with high-fives from her cronies.

After Regina had left, Hartman entered the ring and crouched in the dirt next to Melanie. “Do you need the infirmary?” He asked her.

Melanie sat up slightly and shook her head. “No, sir, I can make it until the end of class.”

The gym teacher frowned, noting the dark purple bruise that was blossoming on Melanie's right cheek just under her eye, and also the blood that leaked from her nostrils. “Very well,” he said. “But as soon as class is dismissed, I'm taking you to Gladys myself. That's not a request.”

“Whatever,” Melanie said with a shrug. Hartman got back to his feet, and offered the young blond a hand. Melanie ignored it, and got to her feet on her own.

“Melanie, what I saw concerns me,” Hartman said to her. “You don't seem to have much in the way of combat skills. And that dirty move you executed...”

“She was bigger than me,” Melanie explained. “If I wanted to win, I needed to fight dirty.”

Hartman fixed her with a stern gaze. “That's not what I teach, Melanie. Landy has tasked me with turning you and the other girls into fighters, _real_ fighters... ones who don't need to resort to dirty tricks. I think you need some extra training.”

The young blond sniffed, and wiped more blood away from her nostrils, leaving an angry read streak on her white sleeve. “My opponent was bigger than me,” she repeated more firmly. “Most people are. So I've found the smartest thing to do is avoid fights. I'm already good at sneaking past people.”

Hartman rubbed his chin. “That remains to be seen, but I'll test you on the obstacle course another day. For now, though, I think you could benefit from some extra combat training.” The gruff man then turned to address the rest of the class. “I need a volunteer, someone willing to give up their free time to assist Melanie on evenings and weekends to help get her caught up in her unarmed combat training. Anyone?”

For a moment, no hands went up. Then a familiar voice said: “I'll do it, Mr. Hartman.”

The gray-haired man moved his gaze to Kimberly, who sat with her hand raised. Hartman motioned her to step forward, so the dark-haired girl rose and stepped over to stand in front of him.

“Thank you, Kimberly,” he said. “You can start this Saturday morning, and from there meet with her three times a week. Come to my office every Monday a half-hour before gym class starts, and give me a report on her progress.”

Kimberly smiled, and saluted her teacher. “You got it, sarge!”

Hartman's expression remained flat, but he returned the salute. “Kimberly knows what she's doing, Melanie. Listen to everything she says. She will teach you how to pee, if she thinks that's necessary. Do you understand?”

Melanie still didn't understand why it even _was_ necessary, and she tried to keep her gaze away from the smile on her roommate's face. So she asked her teacher: “Isn't she doing _your_ job, sir?”

“Perhaps,” Hartman answered. “But I've been watching you since you arrived, Melanie, and I get the sense that you don't trust adults. So I feel that you might listen better to someone your own age. And like I said, Kimberly knows her stuff. She can get you to the level you need to be at, if you pay attention to what she shows you.”

“This is so stupid,” Melanie continued to protest. “What's the point of learning to fight fair when...”

“This discussion is over,” Hartman snapped at her, then raised his head to once more address the whole class. “Okay, ladies, it's time for a split. Those of you who have earned your weapons, gather on the north side of the field. Those of you who haven't, on the south side. First group is gonna do target practice. Second group... keep working on those defensive forms from last class.”

From there, the girls began to divide into two groups. Melanie couldn't help but notice that Regina and her crew were among the group heading to the north end of the practice field, along with several others. “Sorry, Mel.” The blond turned her direction back towards Kimberly, who had pulled what looked like the largest knife Melanie had ever seen out of one of her knee socks. Though it was buckled in a leather sheath, Melanie estimated that it had to be as long as her forearm, both blade and handle, the type of weapon that one might use for hunting crocodiles.

“I gotta go with the first group,” Kimberly told her. “We'll meet up after practice.”

The black-haired girl started off towards the north end of the field. Melanie watched her go, and for a moment, her hand went to her hip satchel, where her dull Swiss Army knife was tucked. Then her brain fully registered what it was seeing. “Wait... we get to play with _knives_?” She asked aloud to no one in particular.

Hartman noted the look of interest in those large, amber eyes, and used it to the utmost advantage. “It's a tool, Melanie, not a toy. You don't play with it, you learn to _use_ it. And even then, I don't just give them to my students. Kimberly and the other girls in that first group all _earned_ their weapons.”

For the first time all day, Melanie was paying very close attention. “So, how do I earn one?”

“Prove to me you're ready for it,” Hartman answered. “By learning how to fight.”

Melanie's eyes moved from the gym teacher to the group of students at the field's north end. Suddenly, the urge to run away was completely repressed. _You can put up with some extra work, can't you?_ She thought. _As long as it gets you one of those fucking knives._ This made her recall the exchange in the headmistress's office, and a small part of wondered if Landy knew something like this might happen. However, that thought was soon expelled from her head with the prospect of someday having her own knife.

“Okay, sir,” Melanie said to her teacher. “I guess... I could let Kimberly tutor me, if you think it'll help.”

The faintest smirk tugged at the otherwise rigid line of Hartman's mouth. “Outstanding, Melanie. But in the meantime, move your butt over to the south end of the field. Try to follow along as best you can. I'll be by in a bit to walk you through some of the forms.”

“Yes, sir,” Melanie said with a nod, then she wiped more blood from her nose and started off in that direction.

She'd only gone a few steps when she heard Regina call: “You're wasting your time, runt. You'll only get hurt trying to come up to our level.”

Melanie turned to face the Alpha, and spit more blood onto the dirt in defiance. “You're wrong there, horse face!” She called. “Someday, I'm gonna get one of my own! Whatever it takes!” Then she turned and continued towards the south end, feeling a new sense of purpose, one that would help her power through the aches she'd feel by the end of the day.

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

So, the gym teacher is modeled after a specific fictional character. Bonus points to you if you figure out who that is.

And there you have it. Chapters 5 and 6 were originally supposed to be one chapter (as with Chapters 3 and 4) but the word count ran away on me. I think it worked better having them separate, though. And now Melanie has a reason to stay at the school. What else could be in store for her?

Until next time...


	7. The Town

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don’t own them, the video games or the anime

  
  


_Chapter Seven: The Town_

  
  


The rest of the week went by relatively quickly, largely because Melanie was kept pretty busy. Tuesday and Thursday there was no gym class, so when school was out for those days Melanie would have to spend an extra hour with one of her teachers, learning cursive handwriting, or multiplication, or state capitals, or whatever else the faculty felt was needed for her to catch up. She would also be given her homework assignment, which she still wasn’t crazy about. But the only reason she didn’t use it as toilet paper was the prospect of someday having one of those knives.

She had a few more run-ins with Regina, and Melanie continued to give “the queen of the school” as much money as she felt the bitch deserved, resulting in more visits to Gladys, and her dreaded disinfectants. Kimberly still didn't seem thrilled by that, but at least Melanie didn't have any more bananas with breakfast. She still refused to say grace, and Joan, realizing that the small blond would starve unless some new punishments were invented, started giving her detention, so Melanie had that to deal with in addition to her extra schoolwork.

Melanie's roommate continued to show her more of the ins-and-outs of the school, including the bulletin board. “That's what we call it, anyway,” Kimberly explained. “Really, it's just a sign-up sheet if any girl wants to tackle some chores during the week.”

Melanie frowned as she glanced down the list. Dishes, weeding gardens, waxing Joan's car... it all seemed like remedial stuff her foster parents would sometimes dole out as punishment. “There are staff here who can do this shit,” she remarked. “Why would _we_ want to sign up?”

“The more chores you do, the bigger your allowance at the end of every week. Which you'll need when we take trips into town.”

“Town?”

“It's about twenty miles from the school. You'll get to see it this Saturday.”

**Saturday, September 28, 1996**

  
  


“Y _ou are a survivor, it's in your blood... stay strong...”_

“Wake up, Melanie...”

_“Mei Lin... no, she'll need something else if she wants to get adopted, something more American..._ _put 'Melanie' on her papers.”_

“Come on, Mel, get the lead out!”

_“God has a plan, Melanie. Even for his mistakes...”_

“WAKE UP!” Kimberly's voice shrieked in her ear, causing Melanie to sit up on her bed with a start. After her dream, it took her a moment to remember where she was, and even then, she wished she were still asleep. It was Saturday, one of two days in the week where she didn't have to worry about getting an icy shower if she slept past eight (after that first day, Melanie had been very good about waking up at the same time as Kimberly).

Kimberly was already dressed in jeans and a black T-Shirt with the Batman emblem, her ebony hair done up in its usual French braid. Melanie wasn't surprised to see her dressed like that, since her roommate had told her that on Saturday, the girls were allowed to dress casual. But she was still a little annoyed at being woken up so early on the weekend.

At least, until Kimberly reminded her of the reason. “Come on, Mel... first day of working towards earning your shiny new knife.”

At hearing those words, Melanie quickly jumped out of her bed, threw on jeans and a t-shirt, and then the two girls made their way down the main corridor of the dorm, towards the staircase that led outside.

They were stopped halfway by Ms. Wallace, who held out a meaty hand. “It's only six AM, girls,” she said. “Breakfast ain't till eight. Where do ya'll think yer goin'?”

“Special training,” said Kimberly, pulling a folded slip of paper from her back pocket and handing it to their dorm supervisor.

Wallace took a few moments to scrutinize it. “Yup, that's Hartman's handwriting,” she concluded, and handed the note back to Kimberly. “All right, you girls carry on.”

Kim saluted the heavyset woman. “Yes, ma'am!” And with that, she and Melanie left the dorms and made their way through the foggy early morning towards the practice field. Once there, they entered the shed and changed into “field uniforms”, though Melanie left the socks off, since there was no adult to enforce Landy's rule.

“So, Mel,” Kimberly said while they were finishing changing. “Hartman wants me to start you off with some basic blocks, but I figured we'd do something a little more fun first.” Her hand went to a small chain looped around her neck, which had a small key strung through it. The dark-haired girl walked over to a nearby storage closet, used the key to open it, reached inside and pulled out two knives.

Melanie felt her pulse quicken just a little as Kimberly tossed her one, but it went away as soon as she snatched it out of the air by the handle, felt that it was made of rubber. Kimberly sensed her roommate's frustration, and laughed a little. “Well, what'd you expect, Mel? Like the sarge said, gotta earn the real one. And anyway, I thought it would be nice if we started with some knife basics before we moved onto the boring shit. Just so you have an idea of what you're working towards.” She shut the closet door, locked it, and tucked the key back into her shirt. “Come on, let's get started.”

A short time later, the two girls were on the practice field. Melanie couldn't help but notice goosebumps breaking out on her legs, as the rising sun still hadn't completely beaten back the chill of night. _Okay, maybe the socks have_ some _use,_ she thought to herself. _I'll be sure to wear them next time._

After they had done some stretches, both Melanie and Kimberly faced each other on opposite ends of the practice field. Kimberly's left elbow was level with her face in a defensive stance, while her other arm was outstretched, holding the blade of the rubber knife extended towards her opponent. She looked over at Melanie and frowned at the other girl's stance.

“No, no, no, Mel,” she said with a shake of her head, then tucked the knife into her belt and walked over to her opponent. “You're way too tense. Widen your feet.” So saying, Kimberly nudged Melanie's feet with her toes, spreading them out. “At least shoulder-width apart. And _relax_.” The blond girl's shoulders were raised, so Kimberly pressed down on them with her palms. “You gotta be loose. Think of your body as a river. It's relaxed, it flows, but... it can also adapt to changes in its environment, and there is force behind it, powerful force. Knowing when to unleash that force is the most important thing to master.”

So saying, Kimberly went back to the other end of the field and resumed her stance. “Okay, show me what ya got!”

Melanie moved forward a bit more quickly than her opponent was anticipating, but Kimberly found it easy to adapt. Melanie's steps were light, but her knife hand was still a little too rigid. She moved the fake blade forward in a series of jabs, while Kimberly, who was rocking on the balls of her feet as Regina had done earlier, found it easy to either dodge them completely, or deflect them with her own blade. Eventually, Melanie over-reached with her knife arm, and Kimberly spun inwards, closing the distance between them and finishing her move with her left hand wrapped around the wrist of Melanie's knife arm, holding it away from her, while her own rubber blade was pressed crosswise against the blond girl's throat.

“You're dead,” Kimberly said, her tone matter-of-fact. “And this is why we have to earn our blades, Mel. Because it's _not_ a game. It's your life. And you need to know how to defend it.”

“You sound like the sarge,” Melanie pointed out.

“I hope so,” said Kim. “He said the exact same thing to me, the first time we sparred with rubber knives.” She then lowered her knife and backed away again several paces. She couldn't help but notice that Melanie had adopted a stance more similar to hers, rocking from side to side on her feet, left arm raised defensively. But her knife arm still wasn't where it should be.

“You're holding the blade towards your enemy, Mel,” Kimberly pointed out. “That's smart. _Always_ keep the blade pointed towards them, no matter what. But your arm is too rigid. Just let it move. Always keep it moving.” Melanie saw that the other girl seemed to have her wrist nearly limp, knife hand swaying in a figure eight motion. The petite blond, remembering her sorry defeat from a moment ago, quickly changed her own stance to do likewise.

Kimberly gave a nod of approval. “That's it, Mel. Be the river. Flow, but adapt. Now, let's try some basics.” So saying, she started forward, jabbing high and low with her knife in alternating thrusts. Melanie quickly picked up on this, and countered accordingly.

“Yes!” Kimberly said with a laugh. “One, two. One, two. Up. Down. Up. Down.” The two girls continued their “safety dance of death” for several minutes, and Melanie actually found herself getting lost in the rhythm of Kimberly's repetitive words, saying them quietly in her head, over and over. After about ten minutes, Kim started to notice. “You have the basic idea, Mel,” She encouraged her pupil. “Keep that wrist supple and loose. But just like water, be ready to _tense_ it!”

As she spoke those last two words, she lunged suddenly towards Melanie with her fake blade, intending to strike the soft part at the bottom of the blond's breastbone. At the last second, Melanie's own knife hand went rigid, and she swung downwards, deflecting it. Kim's weapon still managed to touch against her opponent's belly just above the left hip, the rubber blade curling into a question mark shape as the dark-haired girl pressed it against Melanie.

“That's a little better,” said Kimberly. “Not dead, but still wounded.” She pulled back and tucked her knife into her belt. “But according to Hartman, the belly is one of the best places to get stabbed. As long as it's a clean hit, it takes a while to die from a gut wound. Long enough that you _should_ be able to get medical attention before infection sets in, even if you're in the field.” The dark-haired girl actually laughed a little. “Of course, _then_ he said was getting ahead of himself, and that was a lesson we'll learn in a few years.”

They seemed to be taking a time out, so Melanie seated herself pretzel-legged in the dirt. Once more, her roommate's words found her wondering just what type of a school this really was, and what the judge would have said at her hearing if he'd known young girls were being trained with weapons (she doubted that the literature on the Clemency School that Landy handed him contained anything about that). So as they took a breather, she asked: “Kimberly, do you think it's weird that we're learning this stuff?”

Kim pulled two water bottles from her hip satchel, offered one to Melanie, and then shrugged while she opened her water and took a long sip. “Sometimes, I think it is, a little. But, mostly I think it's really cool. And it's... better than what the kids in the public schools of Burlington have to learn.”

“Burlington?” Melanie asked.

“The town that we're close to. You'll see it later today.”

Melanie nodded, and sipped her own water. It _was_ weird, but she was willing to put up with it. The night they'd met, Landy had assured her she'd learn useful things at this school, and it looked like the headmistress was right. She still had a few misgivings, however, and asked the other girl: “So, why were you the only one who raised your hand at gym class on Monday?”

Kimberly gave a shrug, sipped her water. “I already told you. I know how it feels to be bottom of the totem pole. If I can help you earn a weapon, then maybe it will make your life easier here. It did for me.”

“And I'm sure you're _not_ earning any extra credit for this from the faculty,” Melanie said with a sarcastic snort.

Kimberly's dark brown eyes, framed by the few stray ebony locks peeking out from her bandanna, narrowed slightly at hearing those words. Kimberly reached into her right sock, and Melanie heard the click of a strap being unbuttoned, followed by a slow fluid sound of steel against leather. In an instant, her real knife was out and being held rigid in front of her face, the blade straight up.

“You can believe what you want, Mel,” she snapped. “Whatever makes you happy. But you say I know nothing about you? Well, the opposite is also true. I don't know what your life has been like before you came here, because you won't say, and right now, I don't care. But just consider this: I had to _earn_ this weapon. I busted my ass because of my size, putting in extra hours of training, checking out books from the library on Kali Eskrima, Paranza Corta, and other styles of knife combat, then using my free time on weekends to read them. I even spent a lot of time drilling Hartman for anecdotes from his career in the Marines, to see if there was any extra knowledge I could get. Because I was the smallest, I had to work harder than the other girls to prove to the faculty that I was ready. The day that Hartman handed me this... was the proudest day of my life... because I fucking _earned_ it. More than Regina and her cunts did. He even told me that himself after the ceremony. If I can help someone else know how that feels, then that's great. But even if you don't believe me, the sarge gave an order, meaning you're stuck with me as a tutor, so you may as well shut up and listen to what I have to teach you.”

Just like the first night in their dorm room, Melanie felt the color go briefly to her face as a fleeting pang of regret went through her. “Um... sorry,” she said, shifting her gaze towards the dirt.

“Don't move, Mel,” Kimberly said after a moment. Melanie looked up, saw the dark-haired girl's expression was deadpan. Kimberly had also shifted her knife into a reverse-grip, gazing intently at Mel.

Melanie raised her hands in surrender. “Come on, Kim, I _said_ I was sorry!”

Her roommate said nothing, and instead brought her blade forward towards Melanie's upper arm in an impossibly fast motion. Melanie flinched, expecting to feel the cold bite of the blade through her flesh, but it never made contact. Kimberly's knife hand withdrew from Mel's arm a split-second later, with a centipede skewered on the weapon's tip.

Having not realized the thing was crawling on her, Melanie jumped a little in revulsion, even though the crawly was wriggling in its death throes. Kimberly flicked her wrist, tossing the centipede across the field, then she wiped the blade on her sleeve and sheathed it again. When it was out of sight, Mel allowed herself to start breathing easier. “Um... thanks,” She finally managed to get out.

“Anytime,” Kimberly said with a shrug.

For a while, the two girls were silent, focusing on their water. Then Melanie found herself remembering something her roommate said about this being the only place she'd ever know, and so she found herself asking: “Hey, Kim, what's the earliest thing you remember?”

The other girl turned her eyes upward for a moment. “I remember a white room, a friendly guy in a sweater, speaking Japanese and giving me a figure of Astro Boy. I think I was... about four at the time. Still have that figure on my dresser. I think it's the reason I like anime.”

“Do you remember anything about your parents?”

“Nope. Just a place with a lot of white, and then a bunch of guys took us on a trip across the ocean, and then suddenly, we were here, and Landy was teaching us kindergarten. She told us we were all orphans.” Then her eyes came down again, regarding Melanie with borderline suspicion. It _definitely_ wasn't like the blond to ask personal questions. “Why do you ask?”

For a moment, Melanie thought of telling the dark-haired girl about her dreams. Then she pushed the thought down hard. Kimberly was willing to give her the extra training she needed to earn a knife, but that was as far as Melanie was prepared to take it. She remembered the mystery woman who called her Mei-Lin, claimed to love her more than her mother... who, if her dreams were accurate, had dumped Melanie on the doorstep of an orphanage in Burbank the first chance she got. She remembered the nuns, and all of her foster parents, how they always tossed her to the curb like garbage when caring for her became a bother.

 _People are all the same. They claim to care about you, but as soon as you become too hard to deal with, or too inconvenient, they'll leave you on your own. This will be no different. There's no point in getting attached, because you're just setting yourself up for more of the same._ After an uncomfortable pause, Melanie shrugged. “Just curious,” she replied.

Kimberly gave a shrug, as well, then she got to her feet. “Sadly, the fun part is over. I've gotta be able to give the sarge _something_ in Monday's progress report, so it's time to move onto the boring stuff.”

“Blocking, huh?” Melanie said with a laugh as she also stood up. “You mean, like, 'wax on, wax off'?” She pocketed her rubber knife and moved into a stance similar to the one she'd assumed with Regina, dukes raised.

“Something like that,” Kimberly replied. “Whether you're armed or unarmed, the principle is the same: move like the river. Even if your opponent has a knife, and you don't, you can still disarm them if you're relaxed, and focused.”

Melanie laughed. “Or, you could just have a _bunch_ of different weapons. Then you wouldn't need to worry about being unarmed.”

Kim couldn't help but laugh as well. “I _dare_ you to say that to Hartman.” The dark-haired girl moved to the opposite end of the field, and assumed a more relaxed stance, arms raised chest-level, hands open. “Okay, Mel, now try to hit me!”

 _Well, she said you could_ , Melanie thought to herself, and started forward. Kimberly stood there, short but impassive, rocking on the balls of her feet. Melanie started with a straight jab towards her midsection, but in a fluid stroke, Kim deflected the strike with her back of her hand. The next several strikes were deflected with equally minimal force, though Mel couldn't help but notice how the blows still stung.

After a few minutes, Kim ducked under a punch, grabbed Melanie's arm, and flipped the blond girl bodily over her shoulder like a pancake, causing Mel to land on her back in the dirt. “Ow...” Melanie said in her usual blank monotone.

“You say that a lot,” said Kimberly, standing over her pupil and offering her a hand. “Does it actually hurt?”

“Not really,” Melanie answered, accepting the hand. “Just seems like the thing to say. I learned how to take a punch not long after I got dumped in the orphanage.”

For once, Kimberly couldn't really talk about how messed up that was, since she herself had also learned the same thing in her training. So, she simply gave her pupil a nod. “Let's start again,” she said.

This time, Melanie paid closer attention to what Kimberly said and did, adapting her stance to be more like her tutor's. Though she was unsuccessful in hitting Kimberly, she did manage to avoid getting thrown again. An hour later, both girls had worked up an appetite. The dark-haired girl folded her left hand over her right, which was balled into a fist, and bowed to the blond, her head still raised so she was looking her in the eyes. Melanie stood there, one yellow brow quirked, until Kimberly motioned that she should do the same, at which point Mel returned the gesture.

“Thanks, Mel,” Kimberly said with a laugh. “I've seen that in a few of my animes, and I just think it's really cool to experience it.”

Melanie shook her head. “You're such a weirdo,” she said. But, at the same time, the sarge was right. Kimberly did know her stuff.

“Come on, Mel,” said Kimberly. “Let's go change.” They made their way back to the shed, and Kimberly took a towel off one of the racks. “Good effort today. I think you're grasping the concept of being loose. Just keep picturing the river.”

“Well, I've gotten to be really good at sneaking,” Melanie said. “You gotta be loose for that.”

“That's a good way of looking at it. For now, though, I smell breakfast.” Kimberly took off her shoes and socks, and moved with her towel to one of the shower stalls. She shut the curtain, and a few moments later, Melanie saw her uniform get tossed over the curtain rod into a pile outside the stall. The water started right after that, and Melanie took that opportunity to sneak over to her roommate's clothes and root through them as quietly as she could.

She did not find the key, so Kimberly probably still had it around her neck. Melanie rose, and still moving quietly, reached underneath her bandanna for the lock-picks in her hair, then snuck to the supply closet and used them to open it. She frowned when she saw there was nothing in the closet except some weights and a bunch of rubber knives, but then she realized that probably made sense.

 _I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Ah well, until I find the real knives, I can keep taking classes with Kimberly. She_ does _know what she's doing, and I'll need to know how to use that knife once I get it._ Melanie closed the door as quietly as she could, then picked up a towel and started towards her own shower stall.

Breakfast was, thankfully, the one meal where grace was not said. Whatever Nikolai and his staff prepared was laid out on buffet tables, and the students and faculty came in whenever they felt like it. As long it was within the allotted time. Ever the punctual woman, Joan had ordered that the dining hall be cleared by the staff at nine sharp, so any stragglers who came in seeking food after that were out of luck until lunch.

Though today, they would not be serving lunch, as the class was taking their bi-weekly trip into town. So the dining hall was packed when Melanie and Kimberly arrived a few minutes after eight, as every girl was trying to fill up before they got the announcement from Joan to assemble on the quad.

“So, can Nikolai at least do eggs right?” Melanie asked, putting an orange and a few slices of white toast on her tray.

“Well, they're not powdered,” Kimberly answered. “And they _were_ actual eggs at one point. Or something close to them. At least, until Nikolai got his hands on them.”

“Good enough.” Melanie started to spoon some scrambled eggs from the nearest Sterno serving tray onto her plate. She also grabbed a few links of sausage and several packets of ketchup, in case the eggs needed it, as well some butter and jelly for her toast. After Kimberly had filled her own tray, both girls sat down in their usual spot, as far from both the Alphas and the faculty as they could get. However, Melanie couldn't help but notice that Regina seemed to not have time for them this morning, and pointed that out to her roommate.

“She doesn't like to risk stirring the pot when we take day trips,” Kimberly explained. “But don't worry. She'll let her aggression out after we get back.”

“That's _very_ comforting,” Melanie said, and actually laughed a little in spite of herself, causing Kim to laugh as well. For a long while after that, the girls were silent and simply tucked into their breakfast, as their exercise from earlier had given them both appetites. When they were almost finished, Joan came over to their table.

“So, Melanie,” the matriarch addressed her charge. “Mr. Hartman informed me that you're receiving some tutelage from Kimberly.”

“Um... yes, Ms. Landy,” Melanie said cautiously.

“We actually had our first session this morning, Ms. Landy,” said Kimberly. “She's got a real knack.”

“That's wonderful, dear,” Joan said with a nod, and a polite smile. “I was also informed that she took a keen interest in certain aspects of gym class. I'm pleased to her that.” She then turned to address Melanie again. “One would hope that the newest member of our community might have found a reason to conform.”

An indifferent shrug from the small blond. “We'll just have to see, Ms. Landy.”

“Yes, I suppose we will. Because it would be unfortunate if frequent detentions kept you from your training. Just as it would be equally unfortunate if you fell behind in your academic studies and needed to miss even more training to keep up.”

Kimberly's eyes were on her tray, but she listened intently to the exchange. Melanie tried to keep her expression neutral. “But, Ms. Landy: Mr. Hartman said his word was law on the field.”

Joan's expression matched her student. “Maybe so, dear, but he still answers to me. And my word is law everywhere else. You'd do well to remember it.” With a curt nod, Joan turned and started back towards her table.

“ _That_ went well,” Kimberly remarked after the headmistress had gone.

“Who asked you?” Melanie growled, and started to peel her orange.

“No one,” said Kim. “But even I can see that Landy is pretty damn smart. She's figured out what you like, and knows how to use it to her advantage. So you gotta ask yourself: how much is that knife worth to you? If you're still not willing to say grace, then maybe you never gave a damn about that knife. But that's not what I saw today. I saw you more focused than you've been all week. Still, it's none of _my_ business. If anything, I get more free time if you have to keep serving detention.”

Melanie blew a gruff breath out through clenched teeth, and shoved an orange slice in her mouth. “You think you know everything,” she said in mid-chew, spraying a few drops of juice onto her tray.

“And you think _you_ know everything,” Kim retorted. “Only difference is, you're a stubborn bitch, and I'm not. Now, your next training session is this Tuesday, four-thirty PM sharp. Assuming Landy _hasn't_ given you detention then, be on the field in your active uniform. Though if you're not, it's all the same to me. I'll probably go to one of the rec rooms in our dorm and watch an anime until dinnertime. And your progress report will just say you failed to show.”

“I hate you,” Melanie said with a sigh.

“That's good,” Kimberly said, and reached for her yogurt. “Melanie, even if you don't want to believe me, I _am_ your friend. Except where your training is involved. Then, I'm just your tutor. So if you hate me as a tutor, than I'm glad. That will make it easier for you to learn your lessons. But again: it's up to you to decide how much you want that knife.”

For the rest of the meal, Melanie was silent. She also only half-listened as Kimberly walked her through the procedure for finding out her allowance for the week (not surprisingly, for Mel it wasn't much), and also showed her the best place to hang out until Landy announced over the PA that the buses were ready. If Kimberly bore her any ill will for the exchange earlier, she was not showing it, and acted like the incident had never happened. But Melanie continued to think about it, even as they were called to assembly on the quad, and lined up for the buses.

Melanie saw a few of the girls giving tribute to Regina, and there was a moment where the taller blond locked eyes with her, an expectant look on her face. But Melanie simply waved and then went back to her thoughts. It irked her to know, deep down, that Kimberly was right, that Landy had learned Melanie's weakness. How badly _did_ Melanie want that knife? Could she set aside the memory of the penguin house, and also that one foster home she'd been in for a year, in order to appear to play ball?

She was so lost in her thoughts on the bus ride, she didn't even hear the announcement that they'd arrived in Burlington: a quaint little town of less than ten-thousand nestled in the Skagit Valley. She decided to set her thoughts aside and focus on gathering more intel. She looked out the bus window at what appeared to be a picturesque main street... if one were a magazine photographer from twenty years ago. Just about everything you'd expect to find was there: grocery store, deli, hardware and electronics, barber shop, little mom and pop restaurants, but she could also see the familiar, seemingly omnipotent Golden Arches a few blocks up the road, as well as a few other corporate signs here and there.

“So, what's there to do around here?” Melanie asked her roommate.

“Stuff you'd expect to find in a town, but not at the school,” Kimberly answered. “We'll spend about an hour poking around shops here, and then they'll call us back to the buses, and we'll head over to the mall. Some days we go other places, like the flight museum or the Maritime Center in Anacortes, when Landy feels we need to learn some shit.”

“How often does that happen?”

“Whenever she feels like it.”

“So, typical Landy.”

Both girls went silent, then, as the weekend supervisor launched into her announcement about how the girls each needed to pair off with a buddy, and never let that buddy out of their sight. Obviously, Melanie paired with her roommate. She thought it interesting the adults were not chaperoning, and mentioned this to Kim.

“We only started these field trips this year,” the dark-haired girl explained. “And so far, no one's ever tried to run away.”

Melanie thought that was interesting, but then she realized that she herself had no reason to rabbit at the moment. “Well, as long as you at _least_ let me outta your sight if I gotta go take a dump or something, we'll get along fine.”

“Likewise,” Kim said, and both girls laughed a little.

They were let off the bus shortly after, and Melanie felt the chill of the autumn air (which usually hit valleys harder), so she took the sweatshirt she'd knotted around her waist and slipped it on. Most of the shops they saw didn't interest them, and Melanie was told there was better stuff at the mall, but Melanie didn't have a lot of money, so when they passed a dollar store, she asked to go to in so she could buy a yo-yo and a Milky Way bar.

“Gotta eat that before the buses go back to the school,” Kimberly said when they were back outside. “Otherwise, they'll confiscate it.” But she was surprised to see that Melanie had already removed the wrapper, broken the bar in half, and was offering one of them to her.

“What's this?” Kimberly asked, even though she knew.

“Isn't it obvious?” Melanie growled. “It's a peace offering, you idiot. I'm... you know... sorry about earlier.”

Kimberly smiled and accepted the candy. “Thanks, Mel. Don't worry about it.”

The two girls continued down the sidewalk, and now that she'd smoothed things over, Melanie continued her quest for information. “So... this town knows about our school?”

“Of course,” Kimberly said as she chewed her candy. “Supposedly, the organization that runs the school gives the town a lot of money. So they won't ask too many questions.”

Melanie quirked a blond eyebrow. “Organization?”

“That's what Landy calls it,” Kimberly explained. “She always says that its aim is to help gifted young women rejected by society reach their full potential.”

“Well, that's not corny at all,” Melanie said with a laugh. “So, I bet they get extra moolah by enrolling girls from around town.”

Kim shrugged, and popped the last bite of candy bar into her mouth. “Actually, we've never had enrollment. It's always been the same number of girls until you came along. But even before that, no enrollment.”

This caused Melanie to raise an eyebrow. “I wonder why. I mean, Landy gave me a speech about how my skills make me better than other kids, and she's probably right, but I'm sure there _are_ other kids out there that can break into grocery stores or strip tires from a car. So I wonder why she chose me. Maybe she's _starting_ to enroll?”

Kim gazed thoughtfully at the sidewalk for a moment. “I doubt it. She said at assembly that we had a full class now.”

Both girls fell silent after that, and found a few other places to browse in. Melanie _did_ think all of it unusual, but at the same time, she had something very important to work towards, and so didn't feel like solving a puzzle. Eventually, the announcement was made to board the buses, so they started down the sidewalk in that direction.

When they approached the outside of the general store, they saw a brown-haired boy about their age, dressed in a green apron, sweeping the sidewalk by the store's entrance. Before they got within earshot, Kimberly grabbed her roommate by the arm and whispered to her: “Whatever he says, Mel, don't insult him. Just smile and nod. You _have_ to trust me on this.”

“Why?” The blond girl asked.

“I'll explain later,” Kimberly said. “And even make it up to you. But messing with him is worse than messing with Regina. Just trust me.”

There was an urgency in those dark eyes that Melanie had not seen before, not even during the incident with the banana peel. So she simply nodded. When they got closer, the boy paused in his sweeping to bow to the two girls as they went past. “Afternoon, Kim,” he said, in a tone that made Melanie instantly despise him. “And a new face, I see? Least, I think. That school has so many cute blondes, it's hard to keep track.”

“You'd probably hurt yourself if you tried,” Melanie whispered.

“What was that?” The boy asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Melanie said, louder this time. “I just said that you were right. I _am_ new.”

“Yup,” Kimberly concurred. “She just started this week.”

“Cool,” said the boy, and he resumed his sweeping. “I hope we'll see a lot more of each other, then.”

Once they were out of earshot, Kimberly let her shoulders sag a little. “ _That_ was close. You really need to listen when I give you these warnings, Mel.”

“Why?” Melanie asked with a snort. “What makes that kid so dangerous? He looks and sounds like a punk bitch who would pee himself if anyone ever pulled a knife on him.”

“I'll tell you when we get to the mall,” said Kim. Both girls had reached the buses, and were now crossing the street to where they were parked.

“Why then?” Melanie growled.

“Because I'm in the mood for Chinese, the mall has a great place, and I'd rather not explain on an empty stomach. Also, I'm buying.”

At hearing that, Melanie decided not to tempt fate, and so was silent as they boarded the buses. When all girls were accounted for, they departed for the Cascade Mall.

As before, the girls were being given an hour to browse around and buy things they wanted. Neither Melanie nor Kimberly were in the mood for that, so the blond simply followed her roommate in the direction of the Chinese restaurant. As they walked, Melanie unwrapped her yo-yo and started to twirl it up and down. Kimberly watched out of the corner of her eye, clearly impressed.

“How do you _do_ that, Mel?” She asked. “I've never been good at those things.”

Melanie had the yo-yo down towards the ground at the end of the string. Somehow as she walked she was pulling off all the small hand motions necessary to the keep the string taut, and the yo-yo away from her. Then she flicked her wrist, and the toy traveled back up the string into her hand. “I've been using them for a few years,” she said. “One of my fake dads bought me one when I was six, and I just developed a knack for it. It's really just about keeping your wrist loose.”

“Like your knife training,” Kimberly pointed out. “I'll be telling you everything I know about that, maybe _you_ can teach me some stuff about yo-yos.”

“Maybe,” the blond girl said with a smirk.

The restaurant Kimberly led her to was one of the few places in the food court that was sit-down, and not just a counter where you ordered. The girls entered to find Niko sitting at a table in the back, eating a spring roll while jotting things down in a black and white composition book. The freckled blond raised her head when she noticed them standing in the entrance and invited them over.

“Where's your buddy?” Kimberly asked as they sat down.

“Out there,” Niko pointed with her pen towards the food court's common area. “Jocelyn hates Chinese. She got a slice of pizza instead.”

Melanie said nothing, instead her gaze flicked over to Niko's notebook. There were some words, but mostly it looked like she was drawing blueprints. “What are you working on?” She asked.

“Oh, just another project,” Niko said with a shrug.

“Niko's been working on ways to siphon power from the generator that runs the electric fence, without Landy or the faculty knowing,” Kimberly explained.

At hearing that, Niko snapped her book shut. “Kim, can we trust her?”

The dark-haired girl laughed. “Relax, Niko. You have my word that _no one_ hates adults more than Melanie. I'm sure she has no plans to snitch. Right, Mel?”

“Right,” Melanie said. If anything, she was already wondering what else Niko could do with her gift for electronics. Melanie only knew how to take systems apart, not put them together.

Any further conversation was halted by the waiter coming to take their order. Melanie ordered an egg roll and some hot and sour soup, while Kimberly ordered barbecued spare ribs and some fried rice. After he'd left, Melanie asked her roommate: “So, how do you have enough money to buy us both lunch? I saw you giving tribute to Regina earlier.”

“Well, for starters,” Kim explained. “I don't spend my entire allowance every time we come to town. And also, I don't give Regina pennies. I give her just enough to think I'm showing respect, but she has no idea how much money I really have. I mean, did you see any of her bitches keeping a ledger?” Kimberly flashed the other girl a smirk. “You're welcome, by the way.”

“Um, yeah, thanks for lunch,” Melanie got out quickly. “Now, about what happened at the general store...”

“Not yet,” Kimberly cut her off. “I'm still hungry.”

For a while, there was no further conversation. Niko continued to work on her designs, Kimberly focused on a magazine she'd had tucked into her jeans, so Melanie had to find some other distraction. Eventually, she noticed that the table had a small jar of szechaun peppers at its center. Melanie dipped her hand into the jar, pulled out a pepper, and snapped it off at the stem. She chewed and swallowed, without showing any distress at all. This got the attention of the other two girls.

Melanie then ate another pepper in similar fashion, leading Niko to ask: “Um... are you an X-Man?”

“Nope, spicy foods just don't bother me,” Melanie answered with a shrug.

“Really?” Kimberly quirked a black eyebrow. “Like, you don't feel anything at all?”

“Never. At least, I haven't found a pepper hot enough yet.” She swallowed the second one and reached for a third.

“What about later on?” Niko asked. “When you have to... you know... like, it doesn't burn or anything?”

Melanie shook her head and bit into her third pepper. Kimberly laughed a little. “Niko is right, Mel. That _is_ like a mutant power. I mean, I'll take that over Rogue's power any day.”

“If you say so,” the blond answered with a shrug, not knowing a single thing about the X-Men. A short time later, their food arrived. Melanie took the serving dish of Chinese mustard and began spreading a generous amount on her egg roll. Kimberly ate two of her spare ribs, and set the bones on her plate before proceeding. “So, anyway, Mel, that kid we passed is named Desmond Jones. His dad runs the general store, and Des works part time there on weekends.”

Niko almost dropped her chopsticks. “Oh, shit, she didn't say something to piss off Des, did she?”

“She did,” Kimberly answered. “But thankfully, he didn't hear.”

Melanie shrugged and took a large bite of her now saucy roll. “So, what's the problem, then?”

“The problem, Mel, is that he _might_ hear you the next time you mouth off to him. Des has a deal worked out with Regina where he keeps the school supplied with contraband.”

Melanie quirked her brow. “Contraband?”

Kimberly had started on her third rib, and spoke with her mouth half-full. “Just stuff Landy doesn't let us have: junk food, 'forbidden literature' like comics and magazines, other stuff that makes our lives easier. His dad is one of the businesses who delivers to the school every month. Des sneaks the shipments in that way. He and Regina each make their cut, Regina tosses some scraps to her dogs, everyone is happy.”

“Well, good for them,” Melanie grumbled. “Why should I care?”

Niko rolled her eyes. “Read between the lines, you idiot!”

Mel was about to retort, but Kimberly quickly said: “She's right, Mel. What would happen if you insulted Des, and he decided to tell his dad that maybe he should reconsider his business arrangement with Landy because Landy's girls were mistreating him? Then we lose our only outside source, our go-to guy, if you will. It won't take Regina long to get to the bottom of things, and when she finds out what happened, not only is _she_ gonna want your head, but the entire fucking school will, too!”

Melanie actually paused to consider that, gazing up at the ceiling while she stirred her soup. She could handle Regina's crew, but about forty other angry students? She'd rather not have to spend every waking hour looking over her shoulder. “Okay, I won't say anything to Des,” she conceded.

“Thank you,” Kimberly said, and started on her rice. Melanie couldn't help but notice that the dark-haired girl was wielding the chopsticks with her left hand, and seemed to have no trouble. But if memory served, during their practice Kimberly used her knife with her right hand.

Melanie pointed this out, and added: “So, are you. um... righty or lefty?”

“I can use both hands, Mel,” Kim said with a shrug, and stuffed some rice in her mouth. Melanie said nothing, put her soup spoon down, snatched up Niko's pen and began to write on a napkin with her left hand. After a moment, she raised the napkin to the other two girls, which had _I can use both hands, too_ written on it as clearly as if Melanie had used her right.

This made Kimberly stop eating. “Wow, that's crazy. One of my teachers said that people who can do that are called, um... ambidexterous, I think, but it's rare. Like, really rare. Weird that there'd be two of us seated at the same table.”

“Three,” Niko chimed in, and both girls turned to see the freckled blond now holding her chopsticks in her left hand. “I can do it, too.”

Kimberly's jaw fell open, and for the first time since Melanie had met her, the girl looked disturbed. “Okay... _now_ it's like the Twilight Zone or something.”

“What's the big deal?” Melanie asked.

Kimberly scoffed at her. “Mel, this is super rare. The teacher mentioned that maybe only one in a few million people are ambidexterous. The odds that three people who know each other would all have it... that's like in the trillions!”

“So, it's a huge coincidence.” Melanie seemed nonplussed as she slurped down the last of her soup and reached for a fortune cookie. “I mean, what else _could_ it be?”

“I dunno,” said Niko. “It's the biggest coincidence I've ever seen. Maybe we should buy a lottery ticket.”

“We're not old enough,” Kim pointed out with a nervous laugh.

“Well, duh! I'm just saying, real big coincidence.”

“And anyway, I've got other shit on my mind,” Melanie added.

“Right.” Kimberly gave a slow nod and eventually resumed eating her fried rice. In the back of her own mind, Melanie _did_ think it interesting that all three of them could use both hands. But she was still willing to write it off as coincidence, especially given what was currently going on in her life.

 _Eyes on the prize,_ Melanie thought as she broke her cookie in half.

_Later that evening..._

“Melanie, dear,” Joan Landy called from her seat in the dining hall. “Will you please say grace?”

This request was met with several groans from the other girls. Melanie's amber eyes flicked towards Kimberly, seated at her left, then back to the headmistress. After a few more tense moments of silence, the petite blonde folded her hands in front of her. “Um, hey, God,” she said. “Maybe you _are_ up there, though I'm pretty sure you're not. But just in case, we thank you for dinner, even though you technically didn't bring it to us. Nikolai and his staff did all the work, and, you know, someone else had to pay for it. But... thanks anyway, I guess.” There was a pause, then she quickly added: “Oh, um... amen?”

All eyes in the room had leaped from Melanie to Joan. The matriarch regarded her charge with the most unreadable expression Melanie had ever seen on her. Then, she cleared her throat again. “Thank you, Melanie. That was... very colorful. Be seated, everyone!”

The dining hall then exploded into conversation as the girls all took their seats, and the staff wheeled out the food. Kimberly waited until she had spooned some shepherd's pie onto her plate before turning towards her roommate. “Not bad,” Kimberly conceded. “I think you surprised _me_ more than Landy.”

Melanie had put some pie on her own plate, and was reaching for a crescent roll. “Yeah, well, you have a job to do. I'm not gonna give you the chance to slack off, and spend your time watching cartoons in the rec room.”

“Animes are _not_ cartoons!” Kimberly corrected her, and then stuffed a large forkful of meat and potatoes in her mouth.

“Are so!” Melanie countered.

“Are not!”

“Are so!”

“Are not!”

“Are so!”

“They are _much_ more sophisticated than cartoons!” Kimberly insisted.

“They look like cartoons to me,” Melanie said as she buttered her roll.

The dark-haired girl rolled her eyes. “In any case, Mel, I'm glad you found a reason to say grace. I was worried that Landy might still give you detention. But she knows when she's won.”

“Who says she won?” Melanie laughed around a mouthful of pie. “Even though my hands were folded, I had two fingers crossed during that prayer. And also, as soon as I earn that knife, she can kiss my ass.”

“Well, at least we're getting a reprieve from your bitchiness until then,” Kimberly said with a laugh. Melanie couldn't help but laugh a little as well, though as she ate, she watched Joan out of the corner of her eye.

 _Enjoy this while you can_ , she thought. _Because as soon as I get that knife, I'm outta here._

ADDITIONAL NOTES

So, this is my longest chapter yet. But a lot went on in it, and I really didn't feel like splitting it up like I did the preceding chapters. But I kept it below 10,000 words. I still don't know how long this is gonna be, so some of the plot points might not become relevant again for a while, but I hope you were paying attention. ( ;

  
  


And Burlington is a real town in Washington, and the Cascade Mall is real, too. I did some research, and Burlington's location and population size were ideal for the story, so I went with that as the town the school is located outside of.

  
  


And I'm not sure when the next chapter will post. I'm in the middle of finalizing a divorce, and making plans to move, so that might take a front seat in my life for a bit. Plus, I need to figure out a few more connections in my outlines. But fear not. I love this project too much to abandon it completely, so there _will_ be more coming, I promise you that.

  
  


Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is welcome.


	8. An Understanding

So originally, I had a different chapter planned, one that would condense a few months and cover a period of time between the end of September and Christmas day 1996, but it seemed there was more to tell about Melanie's first Saturday at the school. So this completely unplanned chapter picks up where the last one left off. And when I say unplanned, I mean it wasn't in my outlines. It just... sort of happened. It's shorter than the last one, but I'm still happy with it, and hope you enjoy it too.

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the anime.

* * *

_Chapter Eight: An Understanding_

Dinner had gotten out, and Melanie had been on her way back to the dorms, looking forward to putting on something more comfy and just vegging in the rec room until lights out (according to Kimberly, they got to stay up an hour later on Saturdays). True, she had homework, but she could do that tomorrow. Overall, the day had been a good one. She'd gotten to do some combat training, take a day trip, eat one of her favorite foods for lunch. She didn't think anything could ruin it... until she was jumped from behind by Regina's crew.

One minute, she was continuing her argument with Kimberly about how animes _were_ cartoons, despite what her roommate said, when suddenly she felt rough hands grabbing her arms, Janis at her left and Lacey at her right, while Sunako nudged Kimberly off to the side and then stood impassively between her and Melanie. Regina faced the now-restrained smaller blond with Amanda standing at her right side.

“This doesn't concern you, runt number two!” Regina said to Kimberly. “So get lost!”

Though she didn't try to move past Sunako, the dark-haired girl remained equally impassive, her gaze fixed on her struggling roommate. “No,” she said.

Melanie rolled her eyes. “Don't be stupid, Kim. I can handle myself.” Kimberly still remained where she stood. After another tense moment, Melanie snapped at her: “Are you fucking deaf? Go to your stupid cartoons! I'll be fine! I can take a punch, remember?”

“If that's really what you want,” Kim said, her tone not convinced.

“Yes, now fuck off. I apparently have business with these girls, and like Queen Bitch said, it doesn't concern you! Get lost!”

Another tense moment, Kimberly's gaze fixed on her roommate's. Then she gave a sad sigh, turned, and kept walking towards the dorms. After she was out of earshot, Regina gave the small blond a smirk of pure malice. “Smart move, runt. Better not to drag anyone else down with you.”

“I could care less about her,” Melanie said with a snort. “I just don't like letting other people fight my battles.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Regina growled. “You and I have something we need to discuss.”

“And what's that?” If Melanie's arms were not held, she'd have given a bored shrug.

The taller blond took a step towards her, eyes narrowing. “I'm asking the questions, here.”

“Oh, _you're_ asking the questions?” Melanie asked without skipping a beat.

“That's what I just said,” her adversary answered.

“You?”

“Yes!” Regina started to sound more annoyed.

“You're asking the questions?” Melanie repeated, a devious smile on her face.

“Yes!” Regina practically shrieked.

“So, questions are being asked by you?”

Regina was about to haul off and punch her in the gut, when she felt Amanda's hand around her arm. “You realize what she's doing, right, Regina?” The other three henchmen were all doing their best to stifle their laughter.

The ringleader's brow furrowed, and after a moment, she blew out a sharp breath. “Right. Of course I did.” Then she turned her aggression back towards the new girl. “So, my question to you is: why didn't you offer me any tribute earlier?”

“Oh, that's your question?” Melanie asked, an obvious look of malicious glee on her face.

This time, Regina was not as slow. The color rose in the Alpha's cheeks, and Lacey twisted Melanie's right arm a little. “You should pop her, Gina!” She said.

“No,” Regina raised her hand. “Empty her pockets!”

Sunako moved forward and reached out a hand, and received a kick to the stomach from the wiry blond. She staggered backwards a few paces, and then started forward again, her almond eyes narrowed into deadly slits. “You're gonna pay for that, runt!” She hissed. Melanie would have tried to kick her again, but Lacey and Janis were standing on her feet. Sunako reared back a fist, ready to smash it into Melanie's gut...

“Wait!” Regina shouted before she could swing it forward. “She wants to do this the hard way? Let's at least make it more fun. Sunako, step back! You two, let her go!”

Sunako moved off to the side again, but the other two girls hesitated. “You sure?” Lacey asked her. “Why not just deck her?”

“Because I don't need you two giving me freebies,” Regina said impatiently. “This runt is easy meat. I can take her without you holding her down. Now drop her!”

The two girls shoved Melanie forward onto the grass. The small blond raised her head and took a moment to assess her situation. Lacey and Janis were flanking her on the left and right, while Amanda and Sunako flanked Regina, forming a perimeter that would prevent Melanie from just rabbiting. And directly in front of her, Regina was filling her field of vision. “On your feet!” The taller girl snarled.

Melanie planted her hands on the ground, appearing to comply, but then she suddenly lashed out with one hand, fingers curled into a fist, and slammed it into Regina's knee. The Alpha grunted in pain and felt her leg buckle, then hobbled backwards a step or two. Melanie had moved to her feet, and assumed the same stance she'd seen Kimberly use earlier, arms raised chest-level but still loose, hands open instead of balled into fists. _Be the river,_ she thought to herself.

“Well, this is cute!” Regina said with a cackle, noting Melanie's new stance. “She might actually make it fun for me this time, ladies.”

The cronies all laughed. “I wouldn't bet on it,” Amanda mocked the smaller blond.

Regina assumed her own stance and came at her opponent with the same ferocity as she had on Monday. This time, Melanie was a bit looser, more tuned in. She swayed on her feet, watching for the first jab, which came suddenly from the left, and managed to knock it away with her right hand. Regina's opposite fist came in low, towards her belly, but Mel swiped her left arm downwards and deflected it. She then tried to launch a right jab to the Alpha's face, but Regina bobbed her head right to avoid it, and tried to counter, but her punch was diverted by a sweep from Melanie's wrist.

It was clear she was learning, but Melanie still faced someone who had several years worth of training on her. Regina tried another jab with her left, which was blocked, but it put her opponent in an ideal position to launch a high kick. Melanie just barely saw it coming in time and was forced to backpedal, narrowly missing a sneaker to her jaw. Before she could regain her stance, Regina pressed the advantage.

As soon as her foot was back on the ground, the taller blond spun on her heel and thrust her other leg forward, the sole of her shoe slamming into Melanie's gut. Melanie doubled over briefly but was quick to recover. Regina came in with two high ones, which were deflected, but then mixed things up by bringing her knee into Melanie's solar plexus. The smaller girl could not adapt fast enough and the hit connected, driving the air from her lungs.

Melanie sank gasping to her knees, both hands rubbing her tender belly. Before she could recover, Regina grabbed her by the hair and yanked her upright, then delivered what Melanie was starting to think was her signature move. Once more, Melanie's vision became aglow with radiant starbursts as the Alpha's forehead slammed into her nose, which was followed by an uppercut to the jaw which sent her sprawling onto the grass.

“Ow...” She muttered, still a little dazed from the blow but shaking it off as quickly as she could. Before she could get to her feet, Regina's crew moved in once more, Lacey and Janis pinning her arms to the ground while Sunako held her feet.

When the white faded from her vision, Melanie could see Regina towering over her, Amanda at her side. “Let's try this again,” the taller blond said with a sinister sneer. “Amanda?”

“Right,” Amanda said, then got down on one knee beside Melanie and turned out the pockets of her jeans. Melanie attempted to struggle, but couldn't gain any leeway, not with three people pinning her.

It didn't take long for Amanda to complete her search, as there was not much in the smaller girl's pockets: Just her lighter, her Swiss army knife, the yo-yo she'd bought, and whatever change she had left from her shopping today.

“You'd better have something more for me this time next week, or we'll go through this again,” Regina said as she pocketed the change with disdain. She then turned her attention to the other items. “What the hell is this?” She asked, holding up the yo-yo.

“What's it look like?” Melanie spat at her.

“Like a baby's toy to me,” Regina answered, and tossed it over her shoulder. “So it suits you.” She opened the knife up next. “And what's the point of this? The blade doesn't even work.” To drive the point home, she jabbed the palm of her hand with it, and her skin was not even pierced. “This is the type of knife you deserve.”

“I dunno,” Amanda said with a cackle. “I still think it's too good for her.”

Regina glanced upwards, as if considering. “What say the rest of you?” She asked the other three “lesser bitches.”

“Definitely too good,” said Sunako.

This was seconded by Janis and Lacey. Melanie could guess what was coming, and although there were things she wanted to say, she was determined not to show any weakness in front of Regina. So she simply said: “It's still not as nice as _your_ knife, right? So, what's the big deal?”

Regina shrugged. “Yeah, but the votes are in.” So she snapped the dull blade off the knife and tossed both pieces over her shoulder. Melanie's amber eyes practically dripped venom, but the Alpha gave a bored yawn and started walking towards the dorms. “She's all yours, girls,” she called over her shoulder to the other four.

Melanie spent the next few minutes getting worked over by the four jackals, who were grateful to finally get tossed some scraps in the form of action against the new girl. The petite blond lay in the grass for a few minutes after that, waiting until she was sure they were gone, then she dragged herself to her feet and combed the ground for her stuff. She found the yo-yo easily enough and slipped it back in her pocket. The pieces of her knife were laying close by.

Melanie found that she actually had to fight back a tear. Part of her kept saying it was just a stupid knife that didn't even work, but then... she'd had it for as long as she could remember, long enough that if you were to ask her where it came from, she couldn't tell you. In the end, she took a deep breath to compose herself (tears never solved anything, and were also a sign of weakness, which she could not afford to show in this school), then she slipped the pieces into her pocket. _Someday, when I have my new knife, I'll shove the old one down Regina's fucking throat,_ she thought to herself.

When Melanie got back to the dorms, she managed to sneak past the open door of Ms. Wallace's combination office/bedroom, since she didn't feel like answering questions about what happened to her. She went straight to the showers, tossed her clothes into a heap in the corner, and stepped under one of the shower-heads, turning the knob for the hot water. She stood under it with her head tilted back, letting the spray hit her directly in the face, cleaning off the blood from her scrapes and also her nose.

Finally, when the water that ran down the drain was clear, Melanie shut off the shower, dried off with a towel, wrapped it around her torso, and went to her room with her clothes in hand. Kimberly was nowhere to be found, which the battered girl was thankful for. She donned a pair of shorts and a nightshirt, finished drying her blond hair, fixed it into a ponytail, then left her bedroom in search of the rec room. This time, she was unable to avoid Ms. Wallace, as the supervisor was making her rounds.

Though Melanie had cleaned the blood off herself, she still had fresh bruises on her face, including another purple mark blossoming below her right eye (and so soon after the last one had almost cleared). Melanie insisted she didn't need the infirmary, and also refused to say who did it to her. After a few minutes of back and forth, Wallace took her by the hand and practically dragged Melanie back to her office, where she gave the girl an ice-pack.

“Put that on yer eye, girlie,” she said. “Just so it doesn't swell. And don't try to argue with me on this!”

“Yes, ma'am,” Melanie grumbled.

“And yer sure that you don't know who did this?”

“Never saw their faces,” the small blond insisted.

Ms. Wallace seemed unconvinced, but finally gave a nod of surrender. “Okay, then, go watch TV or something. And try not to get in anymore trouble tonight.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Melanie said, then turned and left her room.

“And keep that ice pack on your face!” The heavyset woman called after her. Melanie did as asked until she got to the bottom of the stairs, then she dropped the pack into a wastebasket and continued on towards the rec room.

Several girls were already there, some of them gossiping, others playing board games. In addition to the television, there was also a Ms. Pac-Man arcade machine sitting against one wall for anyone who had quarters to put in it. However, the machine appeared to be gathering dust.

Kimberly was sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, watching a video of something called “Bubblegum Crisis,” having signed up for a half-hour slot the previous day (she'd told Melanie about the sign-up sheet for the TV on Mel's first day of school). Two other girls were watching with her, but one of them held a VHS of her own, so they were probably just waiting for Kimberly's time to be up so they could watch their own program.

Without a word of greeting, Melanie sat down on the sofa next to her, and tucked her knees up under her chin. Kimberly winced when she saw Melanie's right eye, but she simply said: “Hey.”

“Hey,” Melanie answered out of the corner of her mouth, while she looked at but didn't really look at the TV screen.

“So, um...” Kimberly faltered over what to say next. The blond girl definitely didn't want sympathy right now, so after a moment, she got out: “So, thanks for keeping Regina occupied. If she's not spending her Saturday evening beating on someone, she's monopolizing the TV in here. She has no regard for the sign-up sheet.”

Melanie snorted. “What a surprise.” A few moments of awkward silence passed, and then Melanie turned her head a little. “Listen, Kim... I, um... I wanted to say that...”

“Yeah, Mel?”

“I'm... uh... sorry that I needed to snap at you earlier. But, that's because you didn't listen to me the first time, so it's kinda your own fault.”

The dark-haired girl laughed. “I know what you're really trying to say, Mel, and it's nice to know that deep down, you care.”

“No, I don't,” Melanie said defensively. “Like I said, Regina's beef was with me. It was none of your business.”

Kimberly laughed again, then got up and pressed EJECT on the VCR, and pulled her tape out. “I know I've got a few more minutes, but I'm done,” she said to the two girls who were waiting. Then she sat back down on the sofa next to Melanie. “Okay, Mel. Whether you want to or not, we're gonna be seeing a lot of each other for a while. So we should probably set some rules.”

“I agree,” Melanie said quickly. “First rule: don't ask questions about my past. Not about the orphanage, the streets, the foster homes... nothing.”

“Fair enough,” said Kim. “Second rule: I won't bore you with my hobbies, but you have to promise to stop calling animes 'cartoons.'”

The blond girl gave a curt nod. “Fine.”

“And you also have to listen when I give you warnings. If, for example, I tell you you shouldn't mouth off to someone, then don't mouth off to them. Simple, right?”

There was a longer pause for that one. Finally, a nod. “Okay. I think I can handle that. If you promise to stay out of my beef with Regina, and let me fight my battles by myself. If she tells you to walk away, just do it.”

“You know, Mel, I can take care of myself. I was taking shit from her crew long before you showed up.”

“And now you're not. And anyway, it's not because I care what happens to you. It's because it's my fight, and I wanna keep it that way.”

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Okay. Agreed.” She held out a hand, and the two girls shook on it. “If anything, Melanie, I think it's cute the way you keep running inside yourself. It's definitely not healthy, but it's still cute.”

Now it was the blond's turn to roll her eyes. “You are such a fucking weirdo.”

“And proud of it!” Kimberly said with a laugh. “Now, if you'll excuse me...” So saying, she picked up her video, rose from the sofa, and left the room. After she was gone, Melanie got up as well.

“Hey, new girl!” One of the girls still sitting on the couch said.

“Yeah, what?” Melanie turned to face her.

“Thanks for actually saying grace tonight.”

“Don't thank me. I did it for myself, not any of you.” And with a huff, Melanie went over to the shelves, found a deck of cards, and sat at one of the empty tables playing solitaire until lights out.

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

So, I honestly don't know a whole lot about anime. I just googled “Animes in the 80s and 90s,” and read descriptions off the lists I found. I feel like both “Bubblegum Crisis” and “Devil Hunter Yohko” are both animes that Kimberly would like, since the main cast is largely female and they sound action-oriented.

Well, until the next chapter, feel free to post a review. I thirst for them.


	9. School Daze

So, I know it's been a while since I updated this fic, but that's just because the real world has been keeping me busy. I am officially single again, and have been busy escaping from the new COVID-19 epicenter (aka Florida), to move back north to Virginia. Things have settled down a little. I'm still establishing residency here, and have moved back in with Mater for the next few months until I can find a place of my own.

But while I'm doing that, I've also resumed work on the story of that mysterious orphan girl named Melanie. I _told_ you I loved this fic too much to abandon it completely. I don't care now long it takes, I will work on her backstory until I finish it or die. But enough of my rambling. Let's get this fic started again!

So, there won't be a lot of action for these next few chapters. Just days in the life of Melanie. But I still hope you like. As always, feedback is welcome.

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the anime.

* * *

_Chapter Nine: School Daze_

**October 4 th, 1996**

****She'd cleared both the tires and the monkey bars in under a minute. For the second one, as she was climbing the ladder, she'd actually managed to get enough speed up to vault _on top_ of the bars and just run across them. It was secondhand to Melanie, who'd learned to navigate scaffolds and other raised platforms on rooftops quickly when running from the police or social services.

Hartman, who stood on the sidelines of the course with the rest of the class, did not seem amused. “That's a thirty-second penalty, Melanie,” he said. “Next time, do the obstacle the right way.” His eyes flicked away from her to the stopwatch in his hand long enough for him to press a button.

Melanie was about to say that if it was so easy, _he_ should run the course, then she remembered Kimberly saying something about how he was ex-Marine, so this was probably old hat for him. But when she reached the lattice of barbed wire, she _did_ drop to her belly and start crawling underneath it, instead of moving across the wooden beams it was attached to, which would have been easier. The going was slower than she would have liked due to the muddy consistency of the ground beneath her, not to mention Melanie's limbs were splayed out like some impossible cockroach. But like that pest, she was still quite fast on her stomach.

After that, she reached the wall, a ten-foot-tall climbing obstacle of two posts with wooden planks nailed between them. Most people would have found such a thing impossible to climb, but there were still minuscule gaps between them, and life on the streets had taught Melanie how to find a hand or toe-hold in small cracks. So she scurried up the wall in the same easy manner as she'd passed under the wire.

A few of the girls were starting to cheer her on, the loudest of them being Kimberly. “You got this, Mel!” The dark-haired girl shouted. Melanie was starting to believe it, and getting a natural high off that.

Then the hand not holding the watch went into the pocket of Hartman's slacks and drew out another remote. Melanie was too caught up in her climb to notice, so she did not see the gym teacher press a button on this new device. But she _did_ notice when one of the wooden planks seemed to pop off of the wall by way of a spring mechanism and hit her in the stomach.

The blond girl gave a yelp of surprise as she was knocked from the wall, landing roughly on her bottom in the dirt. This elicited laughter from several of the girls, most notably Regina and her crew. Melanie cast a glare at her instructor that could have cut diamond.

Hartman's own expression was unreadable. “That's enough for today, Melanie,” he said. “You did well for a first try. Even with that thirty-second penalty, your time so far was one of the best I've seen on a first run.” He pocketed the watch, then walked over to where Melanie still sat in the dirt and extended a hand.

Melanie ignored it, as usual, found her feet on her own. “And you wonder why I don't trust grown-ups,” she grumbled.

“Don't worry, Melanie,” Hartman said with a chuckle. “None of the other girls made it to the top of the wall on their first try. And now you know it's there, so the second time you run the course, you'll be ready for it. I _will_ say this, though. You were right about your abilities to move quickly and quietly. They're fairly advanced for a girl your age. I'll be sure to note that in my report to the headmistress.”

Melanie couldn't help but stand a little taller at hearing that. Then Hartman blew his whistle, and the petite blond hustled to join the other girls in the ten by four rank and file formation. They stood at attention for a few moments, and then he dismissed them. “Hit the showers, ladies!” He said, and the girls dispersed and started making their way towards the lockers, while Hartman walked the opposite way towards his office.

Melanie maneuvered her way towards the front of the crowd, eager to claim one of the shower stalls first, as she'd gotten a bit dirtier than most of the other girls, since the sarge had chosen to end class by testing her on the obstacle course for the first time. Kimberly fell into step alongside her. “You are _fast_ , Mel,” she remarked. “You should be able to dodge me with no effort, once you find your focus in our training sessions.”

Melanie said nothing, just stared straight ahead at the locker room “shed.”

“What's wrong?” The dark-haired girl asked.

“I thought you said I had 'full disclosure' from now on,” Melanie growled. “That is what you said, right? That day in the showers, when you...”

“Um, yeah, I was there. I know what I said. What's your point?”

“Why, then, did you not warn me about that thing on the obstacle course. Might have been nice to know.”

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Because, Mel, you heard the sarge. None of the girls ever got to the top of the wall on their first try. Before you got here, Hartman tested us all individually. And none of us were allowed to tell the other girls about what the course contained. Despite what you think about the grown-ups here, Hartman is not stupid. If you were the only girl who made it up the wall on the first try, he'd know that you had help. And it wouldn't take him long to find out who blabbed. And he is one of those teachers you _don't_ want to get punishment from.”

After hearing that, Melanie allowed most of her anger to cool. Her legs still ached a little from this past Monday, when she didn't take Kim's warning seriously and was two minutes late falling in with the rest of the girls for gym class, resulting in her running several laps around the field. “Okay, fair enough.”

“Look, everyone, the runt crapped herself!” They heard Regina shout from behind. Melanie turned her head slightly to see the Alpha walking a short distance behind her, pointing at the seat of Melanie's white skirt, which had a large circular brown stain from when she'd landed on her butt in the dirt.

Regina began to cackle at the sight, which was echoed by her cronies, as well as a few of the other girls who were walking close to the taller blond. Melanie, remembering the rules she and her roommate had laid down, did her best to try and ignore it. Instead, she just turned her head and upper body slightly in the same direction to get a better look at the stain...

...Then she noticed the black beetle crawling up the back of her pullover. Her demeanor changed in an instant, as she started swiping wildly at it. “AAAH, get it off, get it off, get it off!” She shouted. After doing what looked like an awkward dance for a few minutes, she finally knocked the bug off into the dirt, and then began repeatedly stomping on it. This suddenly spastic behavior earned her a few laughs from some of the other girls, most notably Regina.

“What's wrong, runt?” She mocked. “Don't like bugs?”

Melanie was now satisfied that the beetle was dead, and after assessing her surroundings found herself blushing for showing weakness in front of so many people. So, in an effort to save face, she smoothed out her muddy shirt, gave a shrug, and answered: “I thought that was obvious. I mean, everyone knows I don't like _you._ ”

This garnered more laughter from some of the girls. Even Lacey gave a small chortle, until Regina shot a dagger-like glare at her. “That's gonna cost you,” Regina growled, her eyes narrowing into slits.

Melanie gave a shrug. “Check's in the mail,” she said, then turned and continued on towards the locker room.

She'd only gone two steps when Regina tackled her from behind and then gave Melanie her “usual.” After she was done, the Alpha walked away slowly, rubbing her chin in thought. To Kimberly, it looked like she was processing some new information.

A minute later, Melanie sat up and wiped the blood from her nose, leaving an angry red streak on her white shirt sleeve. Most of the other girls had wandered off at this point, except for Kimberly, who looked annoyed, though she still offered a hand to her roommate.

As always, Melanie ignored the hand and got up on her own. “What?” She asked.

“Damn it, Mel,” Kim said with a shake of her head. “You _had_ to say something, didn't you? I thought we laid down some rules.”

“Well, I figured the Regina one was more a guideline,” Melanie answered. “Besides, I let the first remark slide, so you could call that progress, but that second one... well, I can't look _too_ weak.”

Kimberly shook her head again. “Not everyone in this school is your enemy, Melanie. I mean, Regina, definitely. Her lackeys, yeah. Maybe some of the other girls looking to score points with her. But you gotta stop thinking the entire school is out to get you. There are good people here.”

“Can't afford to know them,” Melanie said with a shrug. _Because the second you let your guard down, you open yourself up to get hurt, betrayed, abandoned... you don't need that. Not again._

Kimberly could sense that her friend was likely thinking about the past, so she said nothing except: “I'm gonna go change.”

“Right,” Melanie said with a nod. “I'm gonna catch a shower back at the dorms.”

“Probably a good idea. Regina might still be mad.” With that, the two girls parted ways until dinnertime.

* * *

**Wednesday, November 6 th, 1996**

****The weeks continued to pass quickly, mainly because Melanie was kept busy. Her schedule was still loaded with her regular schoolwork, and training, and academic homework, not to mention the extra hours staying after class to try and get to the same level as her peers. Some of it was easy. She picked up on blocking after just a few lessons with Kimberly, and so the dark-haired girl gave her some books to read when they weren't practicing.

“I read these same books, Mel,” she explained. “When I was working to earn my own knife. Kali Eskrima, Paranza Corta... they're effective styles of knife fighting.”

“You mentioned those before,” Melanie noted.

“Yup,” her roommate said with a smile. “And they involve being fast and light on your feet. So they're useful for runts like us.”

Melanie checked out the books, and tried to read them in addition to the rest of her work, but she was just a little frustrated by the fact that in their extra training, Kimberly only seemed to be giving her lessons that involved unarmed combat. “Gotta learn to crawl before you can walk, Mel,” she said with a laugh. The small blond did her best to follow along, largely because she was thinking that once she had her knife, she wouldn't need to think about using her fists. Especially if she was able to come up with some other weapons to use. After all, if she had enough of them, then she would never have to worry about being unarmed, would she?

Her academic studies were a different story. Some things she picked up on easily, like her lessons from Mr. Coleman the math teacher, or Mr. Santiago the social studies teacher, but English was a course she struggled in. She was able to do the work on nouns, verbs and other lessons on grammar and sentence structure, to get closer to the level Ms. Kelly felt she should be at. But things got a little shakier once the required reading started. The first book she assigned them was something called “The Outsiders,” a novel about class struggle, and Melanie hated it almost instantly.

She would do the reading, but at every class she had some cynical remark prepared: “These names are stupid. I mean, who names their kid Sodapop? Darrell is lucky he was born first, he got a normal name”; “Why is Ponyboy bitching about his dead parents? He should just be lucky he at least got to know them”; “Why aren't the greasers fucking more shit up? I mean, after Ponyboy was attacked in the very first chapter, they should have been planning to retaliate”; “If Sodapop – stupid name, by the way – likes horses, then why doesn't he just ride on his brother's back? I mean, his name is Ponyboy.”

More often than not, Melanie's inquiries would land her in detention, so she eased off on the smart-assed questions after one such incident caused her to miss combat training. “Thanks for giving me a break, Mel,” Kimberly told her jokingly that evening as the two girls were lounging in their beds, killing time until lights out. “I had enough free time before dinner to finally watch that bootleg video of 'Hakuto No Ken' I got from Des earlier this year.”

“Whoop-dee-fucking-doo,” Melanie said, her nose buried in her copy of “The Outsiders”, struggling to get through that evening's assigned pages.

“Well, if it's any consolation, the movie wasn't that great,” Kim added.

Melanie put the book down on the bed and turned to face her roommate, laying on her side. “So, I'll keep my comments to myself at least during class. But _you'll_ probably still have to hear about it.”

The dark-haired girl gave a shrug. “That's okay. I honestly think they're kinda funny. Makes me wonder how you're gonna manage to write the report on it.”

Melanie's outlook on life seemed to fade a little at hearing that. “We have to write a report on this piece of shit? I was just gonna wipe my ass with it after I was done reading.”

Kimberly wasn't sure whether to laugh or not. “Well, yeah, Mel. It's called a book report. Haven't you ever written one?”

The blond girl thought back over what schooling she'd had. “Nope.”

“Well, knowing Kelly, it's probably going to be five-hundred words or more on analyzing a theme in the story. You know, something that pops up again and again.”

Melanie picked up her copy of the novel again and frowned a little at it. “Well, one thing I keep seeing in this book is that Ponyboy is a pussy. Maybe I'll write about that.”

Kimberly laughed at that. “Well, if you wanna read that report to me before it's due, I'd _love_ to hear it.”

Melanie shook her head, and opened the book again. “Weirdo...” She muttered. Though she did file away the fact that she had someone to bounce her report off of. If she managed to write it...

* * *

**November 14 th, 1996**

****“I have to _what?_ ” Melanie was doing her extracurricular work for biology class, which was actually one of her favorite subjects. She thought it was pretty cool learning how living things worked on the inside, especially because the teacher made it interesting with a lot of gross visual aids and hands-on stuff. At least, _most_ of it was pretty cool. The news he'd just given Melanie was decidedly the opposite.

“You're making good progress so far, Melanie,” explained her teacher, Dr. Wong, a bespectacled man with short black hair and a goatee, who never seemed to be without a lab coat. “You're close to where I think you should be compared to the other girls. All you need to do is pass my exam, which will require you to dissect a frog.”

Melanie could practically feel her face turning green. She already thought frogs were disgusting (almost as gross as bugs), and now she had to cut into one, take out the organs, and label them in order to get a passing grade. “Um... is there maybe another animal I could cut open?”

Wong shook his head. “I'm sorry, Melanie, but your exam will be the same as everyone else. I know that you know the material, so it should be a piece of cake for you.”

The small blond focused on something else in the room, trying not to think about one of those slimy, spindle-legged things face-up on a metal tray, pinned down at the wrists and ankles, still breathing even though it had been put under by ether-soaked cotton. What would she do if it suddenly jumped up off the table? More importantly, could she complete the exam without puking? Somehow, the fact that she'd be wearing gloves wouldn't make the slippery amphibian any easier to touch.

She took several deep breaths, looking past the teacher at a human skeleton model mounted on the wall. She was starting to wish she had a bag to breathe into. “And... when would I need to do this?”

“At the very latest, shortly after the New Year,” Dr. Wong told her. “But you'll do fine, Melanie. You've taken to this subject like a fish to water. I've said as much to Ms. Landy. And once this is done, I'll no longer require any extra work from you. Unless, of course, you'd like it.”

 _And he just_ had _to pick the nastiest thing for me to cut open._ Still, Melanie kept that to herself, as she didn't feel like sharing her dislike of frogs with the teacher. So she merely said: “Um... thank you, sir.”

After Melanie had been given her homework assignment and was dismissed, she spent the next half hour helping to shelve books in the library. Ever since the first visit to Burlington, she'd borrowed a page from Kimberly and did chores when she could. Then she gave Regina just enough money for the stupid bitch to think that Melanie was actually showing her respect, and she also hid a portion of it under a floorboard in her room (a hiding place not even her roommate knew about).

At dinner later on, she didn't seem to have much of an appetite. “What's wrong, Mel?” Kimberly asked, noticing the petite blond was pushing her food around more than eating it. “Nikolai's cooking is no worse than usual.” She took a large bite from her own plate. “And his lasagna is one of your favorite things that he makes.”

Melanie forked some greens from her salad plate, chewed, and forced herself to swallow. She didn't feel like sharing, but maybe she could direct the conversation in such a way that she wouldn't have to. So she asked: “Kim, did you have to dissect a frog for Dr. Wong?”

“Yeah,” the other girl answered. “And it was easy. Is that what's bothering you? Don't sweat it, Mel. It'll be easy for you, too. You _love_ biology. I think it's your second favorite thing after training for your knife. And it's like Wong says, most animals have a key thing in common: inside, we're all just blood, guts, bones and connective tissue. Honestly, I think that's why you like his class.”

Melanie was prepared to drop it, and attempted to eat a bite of her lasagna, but the dark-haired girl was not stupid. “Do you not like frogs? I mean, I know you hate bugs, but...”

“Maybe,” Melanie said with her mouth full, and poured another glass of milk.

Kimberly knew this meant “yes,” but decided not to probe further, as she remembered their agreement. So she said: “Well, just pretend the frog is Regina. Maybe that'll help.”

Melanie had been chewing another bite of dinner, and almost choked at hearing that. The image of the frog on the sterile dissection tray was replaced with an image of Regina on the same tray, pins through her wrists and ankles, saying _ribbit_ over and over as Melanie pressed the blade of the scalpel just below the center of her collarbone. She started to laugh, though her mouth was still full, so she had to hold a napkin in front of her mouth to keep from spraying all over the table.

Kimberly joined her in laughing, and after a moment they settled down to the point where Melanie was able to swallow what was left in her mouth. She followed that with a sip of milk. “You almost made me choke, you asshole!” She snapped at her roommate.

“But you didn't,” Kim said with a shrug. “And now you feel better, right?”

“Maybe,” Melanie answered, though the dark-haired girl noticed she was now eating her lasagna with a bit more gusto, making up for lost time. Kimberly said nothing and turned back to her own dinner. Like Joan, she was smart enough to know when she'd won without saying as much.

* * *

**December 3 rd, 1996**

****“So, in conclusion, Ponyboy was a giant pussy, just like all of the other greasers. Except for Dally. Dally was the only smart one, so maybe this story should have been about him instead. Then we wouldn't have had to listen to Ponyboy's bitching and moaning, and the story would have been better.” Melanie looked up from what she'd written at the dark-haired girl seated across the table in the library. “So, what do you think?”

Under normal circumstances, Kimberly would have laughed. But if Melanie got an F on this book report, she might have to repeat fifth-grade English over the summer. Which would definitely put a wrench in her efforts to earn a knife. “I dunno, Mel. I think Kelly wants us to explore themes.”

“I _am_ exploring a theme. The theme that Ponyboy is a giant pussy and is nowhere near as cool as Dally!”

Now Kim laughed a little. “You'll be lucky to get a D for that one.”

Melanie growled in frustration. “It's not my fault that she can't see what a waste of time this book was!” She looked down with disdain at her copy of “The Outsiders,” the cover of which now had heavy doodles all over it (mainly fake mustaches and stink lines on the greasers).

“Waste of time or not, you know what'll happen if you get an F,” the dark-haired girl said with a shrug.

Melanie let out another growl, this one earning her a stare from the librarian. After a moment, she continued in a softer voice. “I know, I know. It's just... I can't think of anything else to write about. I mean, I've proven to Kelly I can read. So I don't see why we have to waste our time reading books that are stupid!”

Kimberly shrugged. “She's the teacher, so... we read what she gives us.” She then turned her attention back to her own book report.

The blonde girl leaned in closer to her, voice dropping to a whisper: “Um... I'll pay you to write my report for me. I've got some money.”

“Nope,” Kimberly said.

“Aw, c'mon!”

“Nope,” her roommate repeated, and Melanie could tell that she wouldn't change her mind. Kimberly used that moment of silence to switch tactics. “Why not find a new theme? Like... that poem that Ponyboy quotes? It's pretty relevant to the last half of the story.”

Melanie snorted. “It proves my point. Poetry is for pussies!”

“Not all of it,” Kim said, getting up from her chair. “Sit tight, I'll be right back.” She then walked off to another part of the library. Melanie waited for several minutes, and spent that time drawing pictures in the margins of her book. Finally, Kimberly returned with some hardbound volume in both hands. She flipped to a certain page and passed the book to Melanie. “Read this,” she said.

Melanie accepted the book, her amber eyes narrowing in suspicion when she noticed what looked like a poem on the pages. “The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe...” she read the title. “What the hell is this?”

“An example of poetry that's not for pussies,” Kimberly explained. “Give it a chance, Mel, it's pretty cool.”

“He doesn't talk about trees, does he?”

“Nope. This poem is about a guy who's mourning a dead lover, then a raven comes into his study one night, and while speaking to the bird he starts to go crazy with despair.”

Melanie raised an eyebrow at that. “This guy sounds like a loser, but... that seems kinda cool.”

Kimberly nodded. “Just read it.”

There was bit more force behind her words, something Melanie only heard in their combat lessons. So she read the poem. There were a lot of phrases and references to things no longer in use, but thankfully the book had copious footnotes to keep her from getting lost. When she was done, she closed the book and simply said: “Okay... that was pretty neat.”

Kimberly gave her a smile of vindication. “You should look up some of his other poems in that book, Mel. He's a pretty gnarly writer.”

“Why can't we read shit like this in English class?” Melanie asked.

“I dunno. But I _do_ know you should give that poem in 'The Outsiders' another look. In particular, how it applies to the connection between Ponyboy, Johnny, and Dally. You can make five-hundred words out of that.”

Melanie chuckled softly. “Um... two of those characters died. I wouldn't exactly say it did much for them.”

Kimberly couldn't help but laugh a little. “Well, you know what I mean, Mel.” And with that, she turned her attention back to her own book report.

Melanie reopened her own notebook and resumed work. An hour later, all she had were notes, but it was giving her ideas for a final draft she could type out in the computer labs. It was five-thirty when they packed up their books, left the library and ventured out into the chilly gray of late afternoon, rapidly darkening into night. There was a dusting of snow on the ground, but the girls were warm enough. Back in the middle of October, when the color change of the leaves went into overdrive, Joan's staff had issued the students hooded parkas, snow boots, and black thermal leggings to go with their uniforms, which went a _long_ way towards keeping out the cold.

They were heading in the direction of the dorms, to drop their books off before dinner, when they noticed Niko sitting under the shade of an evergreen. The stiff needles had kept most of the snow off the ground directly by the trunk, providing a dry patch of ground which the freckled blonde was sitting on, as she looked back over some of the diagrams in her composition book. The two girls shifted course to the same tree. Niko raised her head when she saw them coming, gave a polite nod, and pulled off her earmuffs to hear them better.

“How go the plans?” Kimberly asked her.

“Not well,” said Niko. “There's a variable I'm missing. I just gotta figure out what it is.”

The dark-haired girl smiled. “You'll figure it out, Niko. You're a genius.”

Niko gave a weak laugh. “I wouldn't go that far, but at least this project has kept Regina off my back, since she knows what we could do with it. Maybe that's why I can't find the missing variable. I secretly don't _want_ to, because it keeps me useful.”

Kimberly laughed at that, while Melanie looked a little more thoughtful. She remembered back when she'd first learned of this project, and asked the other blonde: “So, Niko, if you _could_ siphon juice away from the generators, what would you use it for?”

“All sorts of stuff,” Niko said with a shrug. “The main thing I've got planned is to power a small transmitter array that can piggyback the signal off a Cable TV satellite into a black box in the rec room, letting us watch any cable channel we want. But I'm sure we can find other uses for it that Landy doesn't have to know about.”

“Sweet!” Kimberly said. “Maybe I could finally see some of my animes uncensored.”

“And do you think it's weird that we even have an electric fence around this place to begin with?” Melanie continued her questioning, ignoring her roommate.

Another shrug. “You know, one of the other girls once asked Landy about that at an assembly. Landy told her that the fence wasn't to keep us from getting out. It was to keep other people from getting in.”

Kimberly became a bit more serious, then. “Yeah, I remember that, too. Odd thing to say about a school full of girls.”

“Yeah,” Melanie said with a nod. “Who is she trying to keep out? Boys?” She was half-joking, but at the same time, she thought it an interesting thing for Joan to say. Especially considering some of her past conversations with the woman.

“Well, we _do_ know how to cut them,” Kimberly remarked.

The mention of that reminded Melanie of what she was working towards, so she filed Joan's comment away into the back of her mind. “Well, I'm gonna go drop my books off,” she said to the other girls. “It's almost dinnertime.”

“I'll hit you up later, Niko,” Kimberly said to the freckled blonde. “After dinner, when there's no adults around. Maybe I can help with your notes.”

“Sounds good,” said Niko, fixing her earmuffs back in place. “I'll see you later.”

As Melanie and her roommate continued on their way through the gray twilight of late autumn, she took out her yo-yo and started to twirl it up and down, not saying a word. “What's up?” Kimberly asked, noticing how thoughtful the other girl looked. Which wasn't normal.

“Just thinking,” Melanie replied.

“'Bout what?”

“Life, the universe... everything. Mostly, my book report. Just... stop distracting me, okay?”

“Whatever,” Kim said with a shrug, leaving the small blonde to walk and continue the repetitive up-down motions of her yo-yo. Though Melanie _was_ thinking of her book report, it was taking a back seat to other things. For the most part, she found herself wondering what other applications Niko's technology might have, and if she could use it for her own gain...

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

So, I would like to extend my deepest apologies to S.E. Hinton, the author of “The Outsiders.” I was not trying to insult her or the novel she is famous for in any way. When I was brainstorming ideas in my Discord group, I was trying to remember required reading for girls Melanie's age, and “The Outsiders” came up in that discussion, which was a book I had to read as a kid. And as I remembered the plot, I realized that it was a book Melanie would hate, which is what I was going for. So I myself wasn't saying “The Outsiders” was a stupid book... Melanie was. But I doubt Hinton, her family, or her attorneys are reading this anyway.

Also, the poem Kimberly refers to is “Nothing Gold Can Stay” by Robert Frost, which is featured in “The Outsiders” and does play a big part in the last half of the book.

And Malin's profile says she dislikes frogs. So yeah, having to dissect one...

Well, it's good to be back in this. I hope you liked. Until next time...


	10. Happy Holidays

Quick disclaimer: I am well aware that a majority of people who are religious are nothing like Melanie's old foster parents, who have been alluded to before and will be alluded to even more in this chapter. Many of them are decent, level-headed human beings. But there _are_ some fanatics out there (albeit in the minority, but they do exist), and poor Melanie was just unfortunate enough to find herself in the care of two of them. So, that being said, I hope you enjoy. ( :

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime.

* * *

_Chapter Ten: Happy Holidays_

**December 20** **th** **, 1996**

It was the last day of class before holiday break, and then the girls of Clemency School would be off for the next two weeks, resuming the Monday after New Year's Day. Melanie was looking forward to a little rest due to how busy the last three months had been, but even if she wasn't going to be given homework, she intended to use some of her free time on knife training and earning some money.

Right now, though, she was sitting in Ms. Kelly's class, internally biting her nails while the teacher handed back their book reports on “The Outsiders”. Melanie had put it off until the last minute, and spent most of her time after class on the day before it was due typing it out in the computer lab. “There were some spelling and grammar errors,” Kelly told the students as she would her way around the desks, handing back each paper. “But overall, I was very pleased.”

She paused when she got to Melanie's desk, and began shuffling through the papers left in hand. It seemed to the small blonde like the bookish woman was stalling on purpose. Finally, Kelly handed Melanie her report, which had a C written on the top in blue marker. “Good work, Melanie,” she said with a smile. “You passed. I know that you... didn't like this book, and I sense that you weren't fully applying yourself. But you still scored an average. If you're actually committed to the next report you write, you could easily get an A.”

“Maybe next time, we can read a better book,” Melanie said with a shrug. But on the inside she was smiling as well.

“Well, I suppose we'll see,” Kelly answered. Normally she would have given Melanie detention for that remark, but it was the last day before the break, so she was hesitant to have to stay in class late. She finished passing out the remaining reports and headed back to her desk. “I know it's early,” she addressed the students. “But that's all we have for today. Class is dismissed. Have a nice holiday, girls!”

This was met with some cheering from most of the other girls assembled, and even Melanie couldn't help but crack a smile. Of course, it was short-lived, because she knew what was coming next, but at least she didn't have to worry about repeating her English class. As she was gathering up her books, she saw that a few of the girls (Kimberly included) were placing small gifts on Ms. Kelly's desk on the way out, which the teacher accepted with a smile and a word of thanks. As Melanie was one of the few who hadn't gotten anything, she tried to slip out into the hall as discreetly as possible.

Once there, she caught up with Kimberly and fell into step next to her. “Um... were we supposed to get gifts for the teacher?”

“No,” Kimberly said with a shrug. “Weren't supposed to. Some of us just felt like doing it.”

“Oh. So... buttering her up, eh?”

“Not exactly, Mel. In case you hadn't noticed, she'd already given us our grades for the term.”

“So, then... why bother with getting her a gift? You don't owe her anything.”

Kimberly slowed in her walking, then, regarded her roommate with a look that tried not to appear too sympathetic, going for analytical. “Have... have you never gotten a gift before, Mel?”

“I thought we agreed no questions about my past,” Melanie snapped, sounding more defensive than she intended, but the holidays always brought certain images into the back of her mind... the nuns with their rulers and their chalk, and that one foster family with the extremely heavy, leather-bound Bible. Her roommate's question had pushed all this into the foreground.

“I wasn't asking a question about the orphanage or foster homes, Mel,” Kimberly noted. “Just... wondering if you ever got a gift at Christmas.”

“I don't wanna talk about it,” Melanie said, with a firmness that she rarely used.

Kim decided to drop it, and instead asked her: “So... how'd you do on your book report?”

Melanie's report was on top of the books she carried, and so she did her best to cover it with one hand. “You heard Kelly. I passed.”

“Yeah, but... what else did she say?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn't look like nothing from where I stand.” Moving quickly, Kimberly snatched the report and started off down the hallway, reading as she ran. Melanie started after her, though the dark-haired girl was a little quicker today.

“Come on, give it back, you nerdy bitch!” Melanie snapped. “Don't make me hurt you!”

The blonde girl might have caught up with Kimberly, if they hadn't run straight into Mr. Coleman, who flashed them an evil eye. “No running in the hallway, girls,” he snapped at them.

“Sorry, sir,” they both said, and slowed to a fast walk. Though by then, it was too late. Kimberly had already read the teacher's notes, and she passed the paper back to Melanie, who snatched it away quickly.

“Good use of the Robert Frost poem,” Kimberly repeated Kelly's notes out loud. “You understood how it applied to Ponyboy, and his growth as a character. But I wish you hadn't kept referring to Ponyboy and Johnny as ‘you-know-whats.’ That kept you from getting a higher grade. Please make note of that, as well as the grammatical errors I highlighted. Good work, and Merry Christmas.”

“Okay, so you can read,” Melanie snarled. “Good for you. Don't ever grab my things again, okay?”

“Relax, Mel,” the dark-haired girl said with a laugh. “I wasn't gonna keep it. I was honestly curious. And why are you so embarrassed? You passed! I was actually afraid you were gonna stick with your original idea and get an F.”

“Yeah, right. You think I wanna be held back in that class? I have something more important I'm working towards.”

Kimberly laughed again. “Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad you passed.” She decided not to say that she was glad she could help, since Melanie was already annoyed, and a part of it had to do with the fact that the blonde girl was dreading her next class. The fact that they now had more time to kill before that class did not help things one bit.

After they'd paid a visit to their lockers, Kim said she was going to go to the library, while Melanie went to the bathroom, entered an empty stall, put both toilet seats down, and sat there for a while with her head between her knees, breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. Finally, she knew she couldn't put it off any longer. She'd _like_ to, but she'd rather not have it hanging over her head all through the break. So she got up, exited the stall, and went to take her biology exam.

* * *

As she feared, even with gloves on, the amphibian on the dissection tray was still slick beneath her fingers. _Pretend it's Regina, pretend it's Regina..._ Melanie kept repeating this as she slid the scalpel downwards from the throat to the groin, then carefully made two crosswise incisions at the top and bottom of her first cut.

It became harder to pretend when she used the forceps to peel back the flaps of tissue and pin them in place. Largely because it exposed the frog's inner anatomy, which she imagined was probably slightly different from a human's.

“Ulp!” Bile rose to the back of her throat, and Melanie swallowed hard, forcing it back down, which thankfully went unnoticed by Dr. Wong. _It's Regina..._ The voice in her head repeated louder, and Melanie shut her eyes for a moment, trying her best to affirm this fact before she opened them again. Thankfully she was here on her own as there was no Biology class scheduled for today, so she didn't have a bigger audience.

“Very good so far, Melanie,” her teacher said softly. “Now identify and remove the lungs.”

Once again, she wavered. She knew where the lungs were, remembering the diagram in her book. It was just a matter of... slicing and peeling the connective tissue, and then lifting them out and putting them in the specimen tray. All she had to do was... was touch them...

Melanie once again tried to picture Regina in place of the frog, imagined her saying: _Don't take my lungs, runt! I need those to breathe._

A smile crept across Melanie's face. _I'll take whatever the fuck I want, you slimy bitch. And I'd like to see you try and stop me!_ The smile grew wider as she cut around the lungs with renewed vigor, then placed them in their tray.

“Good job, Melanie,” said Dr. Wong. “And now the heart.”

 _Didn't know you had a heart, you cunt_ , Melanie thought at her Regina-frog, picking up the scalpel and making the correct incisions at all the major arteries and veins, then picking it up with the tweezers and placing it in the labeled tray. She tried to keep the same mindset while removing everything else: liver, stomach, kidneys... she almost faltered again, and was forced to swallow her bile when she cut open the stomach and was asked to identify the frog's last meal. It rose in her gullet a third time while removing the intestinal tract, largely because of how stringy it was, which made it harder to pretend she was dissecting Regina.

But the blonde girl still managed to get it into the proper tray, earning a clap from her teacher. “Excellent work, Melanie,” Wong said. “You passed! Just like I knew you would.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Melanie. “Can... I please go to the bathroom before I clean this up?”

“Yes, of course,” he answered.

Melanie got up from her stool, tossed her rubber gloves in the trash, and then moved as quickly as she could without running to the nearest restroom. Though each step sent fresh waves of nausea through her, she managed to make it to an empty stall before dropping to her knees and retching into the toilet bowl. When she was sure her stomach was empty, she got up and flushed, then went to the sink and splashed cold water on her face.

“You did it,” she told her reflection in the mirror over the sink. “It's done. You won't have to look at a frog again.” Though, she still had to help the teacher clean up, but that was easy, seeing as how her stomach was empty now. Once she'd gotten back to the lab and finished helping with that, it was time for her to go to to the last class of the day: Social Studies, which was also short. The class had a brief quiz on the previous assignment, and then the teacher gave them punch and Christmas cookies.

Kimberly and the other eight girls in the class were engaging in a pretty lively conversation, while Melanie mostly just sat and listened. It looked like the music being played by Mr. Santiago, holiday carols by Nat King Cole, was making her uneasy. Kim had heard her roommate mention earlier in the month that she hated Christmas, and so decided to ask about something else: “So, Mel, how'd the Biology exam go?”

“Passed it,” Melanie answered, and tried to take a bite of her cookie.

“Did you puke?” Asked another girl in their class, a brunette named Jaclyn.

The small blonde made a face and set the cookie down. She'd been trying to forget the exam ever since she'd passed it, but the questions only refreshed the images. “None of your business,” she answered.

“She did,” spoke up another blonde, named Janine. “I was in the stall next to her. Heard the whole thing.”

This was met with groans from two other students, Marissa and Regan, and Melanie watched with a scowl as money was discreetly passed between the hands of the four girls. A betting pool, by the looks of it. She immediately turned her ire on Kimberly. “Did you tell anyone I hate frogs?” She snapped.

Kimberly raised a defensive hand. “No, Mel. Swear on my mom's life.”

“You don't _have_ a mom!”

“Then I swear on Landy's life, okay? Look, Mel, this is a school. It's full of people. People are gonna find out some shit on their own, even if I keep my mouth shut. That's just how it is when this many of us live together.”

“Language, Kimberly!” Santiago called from his desk. “That's your only warning!”

As with Kelly, Kim knew that the social studies teacher didn't want to give detention and have to stay late on the last day before break. But she simply answered with: “Sorry, sir.”

Fortunately, her explanation made sense to Melanie, as the other girl was calming down a bit. After a few tense moments, Janine spoke: “Look, Mel, I don't know if this helps, but there was a rumor that Amanda has had her ear to the door on days when you had to stay and do extra classwork. Maybe that's how the news spread.”

“Yeah, probably,” Melanie said, her expression growing darker. She was already thinking about what else Regina's right hand might have picked up on in her spying.

Kimberly decided to try and break the tension, since it was, in theory, supposed to be a party. “So, who else is looking forward to two weeks off?”

This was met with affirmatives from the other girls, including Melanie. “What sort of stuff do we do over break?” The blonde asked her roommate.

“Well, we still have exercise and gym class,” Kim explained. “But there's other activities, too. We take more frequent trips into Burlington, including a night trip on Christmas Eve to see the lights. They set up a projector and screen in the assembly hall to show movies...”

“Any chance they'll show 'Die Hard'?” Melanie asked.

“I don't think so,” Marissa said with a scowl. “That's not even a Christmas movie.”

“Is so,” Mel countered. “Takes place at Christmas, doesn't it? And it's better than most of the other shi... um, _crap_ that usually gets shown this time of year. The only reason I liked 'It's a Wonderful Life' is because the old guy at the end got away with stealing all that money.”

“I don't think you got the point of that movie,” said Regan.

“Or maybe I did, and _you_ all missed the point.” Melanie took a bite of cookie and finished talking with her mouth half-full. “The old banker guy was one of the smartest people in that movie.” To be honest, she was surprised she had already said so much about it, as it was bringing back memories of the first Christmas she'd been forced to watch that movie. So she asked: “Do you think that Landy takes requests for movies at assembly?”

“We can ask her,” said Kimberly. “But I doubt it. And anyway, we can watch any movie we want in the rec room when Niko finishes her pet project.”

“And then you can all see a _real_ Christmas movie,” Melanie said.

“Speaking of which,” Jaclyn spoke up. “How come you haven't put your stocking up by your door, Mel?” At the start of the month, Kimberly had explained to her roommate that gift-giving wasn't mandatory. Every girl had a stocking which was hung by the door of their room, and if anyone felt like putting something in that stocking, they could. Even though Joan had given Melanie a stocking with her name on it after Thanksgiving, Melanie had stuck it in her dresser drawer and not looked at it again.

“I didn't feel like it,” said Melanie.

“What are you, a Grinch?” Janine asked.

“No, I just don't like this holiday, and I don't see why anyone _has_ to like it.”

“And there's nothing wrong with that,” said Kimberly. “Now anyway...”

“Why don't you like it?” One of the other girls chimed in.

“I just don't,” Melanie snapped. “Now drop it, okay?”

The mood became darker once again in contrast to the music playing in the background. Kimberly was recalling the first weekend in December, when the girls spent most of Saturday trimming a large evergreen tree and putting up other decorations in the dining hall, Melanie had quietly ducked out shortly after it started and spent the rest of the day back in the dorms, reading her library book on Kali Eskrima. The dark-haired girl had plenty of questions, but was determined to honor their agreement, so she tried a new subject. “Well, on the plus side, we get a decent meal, like we did on Thanksgiving.”

Melanie flashed back to that week. The students had no classes on the holiday itself, as well as the day before and the day after, and dinner had actually been a traditional spread: roasted turkey, stuffing, whipped potatoes, yams, green bean casserole, fresh rolls, an assortment of pies for dessert, and the food had actually tasted good. She still remembered how the turkey and the stuffing had both been moist. And seasoned.

There had only been one downside, which was that each girl had to say something they were thankful for before they started eating. Melanie was glad that Joan had accepted her answer that she was thankful for knives. “Well, as long as we don't have to sing for our supper, that at least sounds good,” the small blonde said, and took a sip of her punch.

Once school was out for the day, all the girls went back to the dorms, to relax before it was time for dinner. The first thing Melanie noticed when she got to her and Kim's room was her stocking hanging on the side of the door opposite her roommate's.

“You hadn't hung yer stocking yet, girlie,” Ms. Wallace explained, appearing behind Melanie. “So I figured I'd do you a favor.”

“Well, thank you,” Melanie spat at her, temper rising unexpectedly. “Next time, why don't you just stay the fuck out of my stuff, because it's not yours?”

Melanie turned to pull the stocking down, but in a flash she found herself draped over Wallace's shoulder, where she was carried to the showers and subjected to another spray of ice water, as she'd not experienced since the first day of school. This one was even worse than that, since she had more clothes on, including her winter leggings.

“Sorry, Melanie, but this is gonna have to go in my evening report to Ms. Landy,” the dorm supervisor told her. She then tossed Melanie a towel and started back towards her office. After she was gone, Kimberly appeared in the shower stall entrance and tossed the shivering blonde another towel. Her expression suggested unspoken questions, and also a growing curiosity that was getting harder to contain regarding Melanie and her hatred of this holiday. But she simply gave a nod and went back to their room.

After a cursory drying, Melanie went back as well, pausing in the doorway to rip the stocking down. Then she shut the door, peeled off her wet uniform, worked herself over more thoroughly with the towels, and put on dry clothes.

“I gotta say, Mel,” Kimberly told her, attempting to lighten the mood. “Before you got here, we hadn't seen Wallace dole out any punishment in a long time. You know how to keep things lively.”

“She shouldn't have rummaged through my dresser,” Melanie growled, dragging a comb through her still-damp blonde hair. “I hate when grown-ups do that. They think that just because they're bigger, or they signed a form, that gives them the right to tell me what and how to think on this stupid...” She realized she was rambling then, spat out a gruff, “never mind,” and finished dressing in silence. Kimberly decided to drop it and buried her nose back in the book she was reading.

Melanie was still in a bad mood when dinner rolled around, and so wound up going without it, as she could not even muster the energy to say one of her half-assed graces when Joan called upon her.

* * *

**December 25 th, 1996**

_“Speak when spoken to, Melanie... children should be seen and not heard...”_

_“It was the Almighty's will that you came into our home, child... because you're damaged. And the reason for that is you've not accepted Jesus into your heart. But we can fix you...”_

_The leather strap came down hard across her thighs, leaving an angry red streak. Then another... and another... and another..._

_“You must reject the tempter, Melanie...”_

She started suddenly in bed, her amber eyes slowly coming open. Images of the interior of a drab, very conservative home melted into the ceiling above her bed. She was in her dorm room, not in the other place.

“Morning, Mel,” came Kimberly's voice from the neighboring bed. The dark-haired girl was lounging under her covers, reading a comic book that she was hiding inside one of her textbooks. “Merry Christmas.”

Melanie said nothing, only stared at the ceiling. She wouldn't have minded sleeping a little later (the clock on her dresser said it was only seven), but she was afraid to close her eyes again. “Were you having a bad dream?” She then heard her roommate ask her.

The small blonde flashed her a look of annoyance. “What did we agree on?”

Now Kimberly looked annoyed. “Mel, it was not a question about your fucking past. Yes or no: were you dreaming? Because you looked like you were.”

An angry breath was blown from her nostrils. “Yes, but I don't wanna talk about it.”

“What a surprise,” Kim said with a roll of her eyes, and went back to reading. Melanie decided to do the same. She jumped out of bed, and pulled a “Milk and Cheese” comic out from under her mattress (she'd gotten hooked on them ever since reading that one comic on the plane trip that now seemed like ages ago), then she climbed back in and started to do her own reading.

“So, breakfast is at the usual time,” Kimberly said when it was getting closer to eight. “And then after that, we'll get our stockings passed back to us.” The cut-off time for putting things in each others' stockings had been yesterday, just before they got on buses to walk around Burlington and see the Christmas lights. Wallace had put Melanie’s back up for her, but the blonde wasn't expecting anything in her stocking, but then she hadn't bought gifts for anyone else, so that was fine with her.

“Well, at least you've been told the truth about Santa,” Melanie said. It was something she had learned a few years ago from the fake parents with the huge, leather-bound Bible, and she’d been hoping to be able to ruin things here for the girls at the school. But Kimberly had told her that when they'd spent their first Christmas here, Joan had gathered them for assembly and told them the naked truth: Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy... none of them were real. So even though the Clemency School still celebrated, at least they had one foot on the ground.

“You kidding?” Kimberly said with a laugh. “The idea of Santa sounds like the plot of one of my animes. I'm glad Landy told us the truth.”

“And what's for breakfast today?” Melanie asked.

“Real good, actually,” said Kimberly. “Nikolai must have the day off on Christmas, because we get pancakes, biscuits, cornbread, a few different kinds of meat, potatoes.”

Despite her mood, Melanie found her mouth watering. It had been a while since she'd had potatoes for breakfast, probably not since her hotel stay, just before her life took an interesting turn. “Well, that's something, at least,” she conceded. “Think Regina will be pissed I didn't get her anything?”

Kimberly laughed. “Is Landy a dictator when it comes to eating healthy?” Her roommate couldn't help but laugh along, in spite of herself.

It was then they heard footsteps coming down the hall. Melanie quickly hid her comic under her pillow just before Ms. Wallace entered the room. The Southern dame, who at her heart was Southern though anything _but_ a dame, was lugging a pillowcase which seemed to be filled to the brim with something, and placed a wrapped gift at the foot of each child's bed. “Merry Christmas, girls,” she said.

“Merry Christmas, ma'am,” Kimberly answered. “Thank you.” Melanie remained silent, so the dark-haired girl reached over and smacked her on the arm. “Mel... wasn't this nice of her?”  
Despite Melanie's hatred of the holiday, the icy shower from last Friday was still fresh in her mind. So she also gave a nod. “Thank you, ma'am,” she said. She did not feel like saying the traditional holiday greeting, but fortunately Wallace accepted it.

After she'd gone to the next room, the girls opened their gifts to find that they'd each been given a pair of earmuffs. Melanie was used to getting clothes for Christmas, but this time she was surprised at how practical it was. Especially since this was the first time she'd experienced a winter in the Pacific northwest. Shortly after unwrapping, however, it was time to make beds, get dressed, and proceed to the dining hall for holiday breakfast. But they got to test their new possessions out, as there were a few inches of snow on the ground, with more drifting lazily down from the sky.

Joan Landy had actually arrived ahead of the students and was standing behind her chair, smartly dressed as usual, but this time with a holly corsage pinned to her lapel. “Merry Christmas, girls!” She said to the students after they'd found their chairs.

“Merry Christmas, Ms. Landy,” everyone answered in unison, though it took Melanie a second to figure out what was happening, so she wound up only mouthing the last part.

“As we celebrate today,” Joan went on, “I hope that we will also take time to reflect on what an eventful year its been. Our little family is complete, and both she and the rest of my dear charges have accomplished a great deal this year. I hope we can all take a moment to appreciate that as we enjoy our breakfast. Now, normally we don't say grace for this meal, but a special day requires something special. Melanie, dear, as this is your first Christmas in your new home... will you do the honors?”

The small blonde most certainly did _not_ want to do the honors, but she also didn't feel like missing out on breakfast, the smell of which was already filling the dining hall and making her mouth water. So she bowed her head and said: “Hey, God, thanks for tricking some gullible teenager into letting you knock her up with your magic baby so that we could get a break from class today. God bless God, Amen.”

As always, there was a protracted moment of silence after Melanie had finished her blasphemous blessing. But this time, Joan did not seem placated. “Is that all you'd like to say?” She asked.

Melanie shrugged. “Uuuuum... Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown?”

“Hm,” Joan blew a short breath out through her nostrils. “Well, you'll have time to come up with something better for dinner. In the meantime, let's be seated.” The conversation started in earnest as the students took their seats and the holiday breakfast was served.

It turned out there were both pancakes _and_ French toast, and Melanie opted for the latter, which was crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, and tasted wonderful with butter and syrup. Kimberly also hadn't been lying about the meat: there was bacon strips, Canadian bacon, and sausage patties. There was even sausage gravy for the biscuits, which were actually soft, as opposed to the hockey pucks Nikolai usually served. And of course, Melanie saved some room for the hash browns, which were perfectly seasoned.

It was almost enough to make her forget what day it was. But she received a nice reminder towards the end of the meal, when the stockings were brought in and passed around to the students. Melanie ignored hers, even though it felt like there was something in it, and picked at what was left on her plate.

Kimberly turned her stocking out, and was pleased to find a figure of a dark-haired woman in some sort of mech suit, no doubt a character from one of her animes. “Wow, Niko, you actually managed to find Priss!” She called over the freckled blonde. “Thank you!”

“Don't mention it,” Niko called back. “Thanks for the parts!”

“Dunno what you've got planned for them, but you're welcome,” Kimberly said. She then turned to her roommate. “Don't you wanna check your stocking, Mel? Seems like there's something in it.”

Melanie shook her head. “Nah. I didn't ask for anything.”

“It's not something you ask for, Mel. That's why it's called a gift.” Kim was starting to think that perhaps Melanie _had_ never gotten one before.

Melanie ignored the dark-haired girl, reached for her milk instead. “Yoink!” Moving once again with a speed to rival Melanie's, Kim grabbed the stocking, turned it upside-down, and began to shake.

“Don't, I'm warning you,” Melanie grumbled.

“Awe, c'mon, Mel, I'm curious. I mean, _I_ didn't get you anything because you hate this holiday. So I wanna see what you got.”

Melanie was about to try and grab the stocking back when her roommate freed what was inside it: a large plastic cockroach plopped out of the ornamental sock, bounced off the surface of the table, and landed square in Melanie's lap. Melanie, still holding her milk glass, dropped it on the floor, spilling it everywhere.

The small blond hardly noticed her mess, as she was too busy screaming bloody murder at the plastic bug on her lap, which was the size of her fist and looked extremely lifelike. She only realized it was not living after she bolted out of her chair and brushed it to the floor, which also caused her to slip on the puddle of milk and fall back onto her butt.

The collateral damage had also been done at this point, as most of the cafeteria was laughing at her. Regina called over: “Merry Christmas, runt!” Then she continued to laugh the loudest, along with her crew. As Kim was helping Melanie get to her feet, Joan came over and asked what was going on.

After the situation was explained, the elder woman asked for the offending plastic roach. Melanie somehow managed to pick it up off the floor and hand it to Joan, though she kept her eyes shut the whole time, which earned a few more giggles from those assembled. “Who is responsible for this?” The headmistress's voice rang through the dining hall. She held up the roach so that all the girls could get a clear view.

But there was no answer to her question. So she turned to Melanie. “Melanie, dear, can you think of anyone who might have wanted to put this in your stocking?”

The small blonde deliberately kept her eyes off Regina. “No, Ms. Landy. I have no idea.”

A long look of scrutiny from Joan's steel-blue eyes. Then, she cleared her throat to address the entire dining hall. “Very well. It appears there is no way of knowing who is responsible for this. But one thing I do know. It seems this community needs to learn a little Christmas spirit. So, there will be a mandatory assembly following breakfast. Consider all other morning activities canceled.” With that, Joan motioned for one of the staff to help clean up the milk, pocketed the plastic roach, and walked back to her table, ignoring the groans from the other students.

And so when breakfast was done, instead of getting to go back to her room and trying to pretend it was a different day, Melanie wound up following the rest of the girls to assembly. After a brief lecture from Joan, they were subjected to some black and white movies: “It's a Wonderful Life” and the 1951 version of “A Christmas Carol.”

Needless to say, the next few hours went by very slowly for the girls. By the time assembly was done and they were dismissed, they were eager to get out of there. But Melanie still stayed behind so she could walk out on her own. She left the hall to a sky that was still overcast, though it had stopped snowing. It would have been more serene, if it were any other day of the year. Melanie stuck her hands in the pockets of her parka and started off towards the dorms.

The dorm building was brightly decorated with paper snowflakes taped to the insides of the windows, and the staff had strung up lights on the outside. It was cheerful-looking, something that Melanie was most definitely not at the moment. Her mood worsened not long after she'd entered and made her way to the rec room.

It looked like most of the girls were having what appeared to be a party. Someone had smuggled in some cookies and soda, as well as a few other goodies, and the TV was playing a video of some Christmas special with the Looney Tunes characters. Regina was sitting in one of the easy chairs, surrounded by her four “bitches.” Melanie tried to ignore her and went to go get a deck of cards, but Regina was up from the chair and intercepting her halfway.

The sneer of satisfaction was just a little more pronounced than it usually was. “Like your present, runt?” The taller blonde asked. The question was met by laughter from the jackals scrounging around the chair.

“Dunno,” Melanie shot back. “Does your question mean that you admit giving it to me?”

Regina laughed and sucked on a candy cane. “Nope. Just a question. Now here's another: you got a present for _me_?”

Melanie was about to ready another insult, but then she got a better idea. “Sure do,” she said. “Hold out your hand.”

Regina did as asked. Melanie started to rummage through the pocket of her parka, pretending to look for something, which gave her the cover she needed to hock a large loogie onto Regina's palm, which earned equal parts laughter, equal parts squeals of revulsion from everyone else assembled. Regina immediately grabbed the shorter girl by the collar with her other hand and wiped the spit-laden one into Melanie's hair. “You're gonna pay for that, “she snarled, and shoved Melanie back against the wall.

Melanie had been learning her lessons well, and managed to block several of Regina's attacks. But the Alpha still had better reach, and hadn't gotten to where she was by slouching in her training. Melanie eventually found herself face-down on the ground, the toe of Regina's boot pressed against the back of her head.

“Have something to give me next year,” Regina warned. “Or I'll make you lick some yellow snow.”

“Are you finished?” Melanie asked, her voice muffled by the floorboards.

For a split-second, Regina pressed a little harder with her foot, then let go. “Lucky for you, it's Christmas, so I'm in a good mood. Now beat it. This is a private party and you're not invited.”

Melanie got to her feet, wiped the blood from her nose, and started towards the exit. On her way out, one of the other girls stepped up and asked her: “Hey, is it true that you gave yourself that bug to make us all go to assembly? That's what Regina said.”

If the small blonde had been in a better mood, she'd have laughed contemptuously at the other girl. Instead, she asked: “Just how fucking stupid _are_ you?” Then she knocked the girl's plate of food from her hands and stalked off.

Wallace's door was half-open, and judging by the singing of some Christmas carol emanating from the room, the supervisor was having her own “celebration” (Wallace sometimes drank on the job, but was usually better at keeping it hidden). Melanie snuck past, grabbed a shower, went back to her room, and after changing clothes, lay face-down on the bed and wished for the day to just end already.

* * *

_“But you said God was perfect. If he doesn't make mistakes, then that means I'm not one.”_

_“But you are, Melanie... because you haven't accepted him. He wants you to be normal, but first you have to let him in and allow him to make you a proper lady.”_

_The paddle stung the palm of her hand, bringing a fresh bruise to the surface._

_“Children should be seen and not heard, Melanie. You're fortunate that God blessed us with patience.”_

_“Don't touch that! You will wait until your father has eaten to be served.”_

_“He's not my father, MARGARET...”_

Melanie had no idea how long she'd been laying there when she heard the door to the room open. Kimberly stepped in, wearing her boots and parka, the red in her cheeks suggesting that she'd been outside for a while. “Hey,” she said to her roommate, and stepped over to the closet.

“How come you're not at the party?” Melanie grumbled.

“Didn't feel like it. And anyway, since Regina bought the food, she'd only let in the people who show her respect. And I don't feel like pretending to respect her right now.”

“Hm.” Melanie sat up a little on the bed. “Are people really this stupid, Kim? Some of the girls actually think I put that bug in my own stocking.”

“Yeah, that's what Regina's been saying,” Kimberly said with a nod. “I don't believe it, but I can see how others might be so gullible. I mean, you haven't exactly been hiding your hatred of this holiday, Mel. Plus, Regina paid for a party, so people will believe anything she says. And maybe overlook the fact that it _was_ actually Regina who ruined their morning.”

“People are so stupid,” Melanie growled, practically spitting out the words.

“You may be right,” Kimberly said with a shrug. “But forget about them. Let 'em have their party. I've got something even better to show you.”

One yellow eyebrow went up in suspicion. “What?”

“You'll see.” Melanie's roommate pulled her parka from the closet and tossed it to her. “Come on, let's go outside.”

“Forget it,” said Melanie, lying back down on the bed. “If we have to go out, whatever you wanna show me can come in here to me, where it's warm.”

“Come on, Mel, don't be a pussy.” Kimberly picked up her parka again and this time dropped it on Melanie's face, causing her to sit up once more. “Look, just come and see what I have to show you, and I promise you that after that, I will leave you alone for the rest of our lives if you ask me to.”

This made Melanie even more suspicious, but in the end, she donned her boots, parka, and earmuffs, and followed Kimberly outside. The dark-haired girl led her down the freshly-shoveled sidewalk in the rapidly approaching twilight, until they came to one of the larger evergreens that lined the path along the edge of the quad.

To Melanie's surprise, Kim then stepped off the path and started to shimmy up the trunk of the tree. She was halfway to the first sturdy bough when she looked back down at the blonde. “Coming?” She asked.

“What is it?” Melanie growled. “Did a family of squirrels adopt you or something?”

Now Kimberly started to look annoyed. “Just climb the damn tree, Mel. You can climb, can't you?”

Melanie rolled her eyes and started to scale the trunk as well. When she reached the first of the sturdiest branches, about ten feet of the ground, Kimberly pulled her up onto the bough and showed her what she'd wanted Mel to see: a small pile of snowballs sat on the wide surface of the branch, within easy reach. The blonde girl's annoyed look quickly turned confused. “What? What is this? Were you up here making snowballs?”

“Yup,” Kim said with a smile and a nod. “That's not the only cache. I've got a few more on the surrounding branches, and there's some in a hollow in the trunk. All told, there's a few dozen. _And_...” As she spoke, she pointed to the sidewalk they'd just come from. “It might interest you to know that Regina walks that path to dinner every evening, which is about ten minutes from now. So...” Kimberly's smile grew wider as she picked a snowball up off the pile and held it out to her roommate. “Merry Christmas, Melanie.”

Melanie could only stare at the other girl's outstretched hand. “You... you did this for _me_?”

“Well, I know that might make you uncomfortable, so if you _want_ , you could say I did it for both of us,” Kimberly said with a laugh. “But you don't have to thank me, or say anything that you don't feel like saying. I know that isn't _you_. But just know that I'll never ask you for a favor. I did this because I _wanted_ to. Which is why it’s called a gift.”

“But... what about your rules? You keep saying we shouldn't piss Regina off...”

“It's Christmas, Mel. Let's just forget the rules for one day. Besides, you're not the only one who wants payback. I had plans after breakfast, like most of the girls. Had signed up to watch some 'Bubblegum Crisis' in the rec room. Then that bitch ruined it. So let's take her down a peg. What do you say?”

At hearing that, Melanie finally gave a short cackle and accepted the snowball. “I say fuck yeah!”

The girls took up their positions, crouching to use the needles still on the branches as cover. Fortunately, there were plenty of cracks wide enough between those branches for them to shoot through. The dusk grew closer, but there was still enough light for them to aim by. Students began to file past them on the sidewalk, ahead of the PA announcement for dinner, but none of them noticed the ambush waiting to happen. Finally, they saw Regina coming past, walking slightly ahead of her “entourage.” Kimberly turned her head just enough to face her roommate, gave a slight nod.

Both girls stood up on the branch and let fly. The icy projectiles hit Regina squarely on the side of her head, knocking her down into a snowdrift. Amanda was at her side almost instantly to help her up, while the other three took up defensive positions in front of the drift, scanning the trees to see where the shots had come from. They didn't have to look long, as another snowball whizzed through the air and struck Lacey dead-center in the face, sending her sprawling into the snow. This was followed instantly by another ball that grazed Sunako's ear, but was no less painful.

Lacey was down for the moment, trying to shake off the sting of that direct hit. Regina had regained her feet, with some slush matted into her hair, and brushed snow from her cheek. Her eyes had adjusted to the dimness, and grew livid when they saw Melanie and Kimberly up in the tree, each one holding a fresh snowball. “You runts are fucking dead!” She growled.

“You'll have to climb up here and get us first, shorty!” Kimberly called, and launched the snowball she was holding. Regina managed to duck this one, but as she straightened up, Melanie's snowball struck her in the face.

This pushed the Alpha over the edge. “Get them!” She snapped at her cronies. All five of them charged the tree with a yell. Some other girls who had been on their way to dinner stopped at a safe distance to watch the battle unfold. None of them were crazy enough to go up against Regina's clique, but whatever happened, they'd get a good show.

Lacey had regained her feet by now, but was felled again by another snowball smacking her square in the face again, courtesy of Kimberly. The others paused in their advance to scoop some snow from the ground and start forming their own ammunition, which left them open to get pelted by a few more icy spheres from the girls up in the tree.

Regina spit dirt and snow from her mouth as she attempted to finish crafting her first snowball. Being out in front, she'd taken a few more hits than the other girls, but rage kept her on her feet. “You're gonna eat a fucking gallon of yellow snow when we catch you!” She bellowed at the tree, raising her arm to throw.

Then another snowball from Melanie hit her in the face and caused her to drop her own weapon. “Eat _that_ , horse-face!” Melanie called down to her. “You wanna fucking present? I got a few dozen more for you!”

“Hey, Regina!” Kimberly shouted, nailing her with another snowball. “If I had a dog that looked like you, I'd shave its butt and train it to walk backwards!”

“Nice one!” Melanie commented, and reached for another snowball.

By now, the girls on the ground had managed to craft a few snowballs of their own, but it was clear they were at a disadvantage. Their targets were small, and elevated, and already had plenty of ammo pre-made. Not to mention that by now, they'd all taken several head-shots, and the snow that stuck to them was melting, and running down under their parkas to soak the clothes beneath, which was distracting, to say the least.

Still, the two petite girls in the tree continued their onslaught, moving from branch to branch, easily dodging what was being thrown up at them, and responding in kind. Though the fight soon went out of her cronies, Regina herself was battling on despite taking a pounding. She launched another snowball that fell short, and screamed: “I'm gonna rip your goddamn heads off!”

“Ah, go lick a skunk's ass!” Melanie called down, and lobbed another ball.

“I don't think the skunk could stand the smell,” Kimberly said with a laugh, launching her own snowball. Though she didn't show it, the dark-haired girl was starting to worry. She'd underestimated how potent Regina's rage was, and the snowball caches she'd made earlier were running low.

These latest remarks ignited a fresh spark in Regina, and she charged forward, jumped at the trunk, and started to climb it. Mel and Kim each tossed some snowballs, but Regina was flying on her anger like a steroid, shrugged off the blows, and kept climbing. “We may be in trouble,” Kimberly said, and took a few steps back, retreating a little ways up the bough.

Melanie cast a quick glance around the tree and got an idea. “Naw, we're totally good. Watch this.” She waited another few seconds for Regina to get halfway up, then she jumped out and grabbed onto an overhead branch with both hands. Gripping it as tight as she could, she gave it a shake, releasing the huge drift of snow that had accumulated on top of it... which landed smack on her adversary, knocking Regina off the tree.

Melanie found solid ground on the bough once more and looked down with glee at the sight of Regina buried under a mini-avalanche at the foot of the evergreen, with her legs sticking out. By now, her cronies had regained their feet and were helping her up. Having the snowdrift dropped on her had cooled off everything except Regina's temper, but it had finally taken the fight out of her. She glared daggers at Kimberly and Melanie. “Don't think this is over,” she growled. “You're gonna pay for this. In spades.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Mel retorted, and threw another snowball at her face.

“Yeah, I'm with Mel. Go fuck yourself.” Kimberly's own snowball found its mark, as well, and with that, Regina and her entourage stalked back to the dorms to change into dry clothes.

After she was gone, the two roommates stayed up in the tree for another minute. Kimberly risked putting a hand on Mel's shoulder, and the blonde did not flinch away. “Feel better?” She asked.

Mel gave what almost looked like a half-grin. “What do you think?”

“I think we should make this a holiday tradition.”

“If we live that long, Melanie pointed out.

“Heh.” It started as a small noise, but then Kimberly started to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And then... in spite of herself, Melanie found that she was laughing too. And so the two girls laughed together for a minute, then spent another minute catching their breath. It seemed to Kimberly like their understanding of each other might have grown a little deeper in that moment. She chose not to point that out, and instead said: “Don't know about you, but I'm hungry.”

“Me too,” Melanie affirmed. “I think I heard the PA announcement close to the end of our fight. Let's eat.”

“After you,” Kim said, and the two girls finally left the tree.

They were some of the last to get to the dining hall, but they were still ahead of Regina and her crew. Melanie was in such a good mood that she actually said what sounded more like a “real” grace when prompted, even though she didn't believe a word of it (plus there was no way in hell she was missing out on Christmas dinner, which as Kimberly had said, looked and smelled as good as Thanksgiving). Regina finally entered just as Melanie was almost finished, and the small blonde never broke eye contact with the Alpha as she said: “Oh, and uh... thanks for helping me find some Christmas spirit. Amen.” The look Regina gave her after she said that was the icing, as far as Melanie was concerned.

“Impressive, Melanie,” Joan said with a nod. “It seems we _may_ get you to conform after all. And thank you to Regina, Amanda, Sunako, Janis and Lacey for finally gracing us with their presence. Everyone be seated.”

A few hours later found both of the girls back in their dorm room, reading their respective comics until lights out. It felt almost like Death Row: they knew that retaliation from Regina would be inevitable, so they were neither watching nor waiting for it. They embraced the fact that it would eventually happen, and that was enough. At the moment, however, they were both dressed in their comfy pajama pants and brown nightshirts, with stomachs full of turkey, trimmings and pie, and life was good.

Then suddenly, Kimberly threw off her blanket and jumped up. “Almost forgot!” She exclaimed.

“What?” Melanie asked, looking up from her reading.

“Been saving these for today.” The dark-haired girl got down on one knee, opened what seemed to be a hidden compartment in their nightstand, and pulled out a pack of two of those chocolate cakes covered in marshmallow and pink coconut. She opened the pack and held it out to Melanie. “Want one?”

“Um... sure.” Melanie took one of the cakes, and then Kimberly closed the compartment and climbed back into bed. For a while, the two girls were silent. Then Melanie rolled on her side to face Kim's bed. “Um... Kim?”

“Yeah, Mel?” She noticed that the blonde had that rare look in her amber eyes, that Kimberly had only seen on her once or twice in the past.

Melanie took a deep breath, like she was considering her words carefully. “Look, I... _have_ gotten gifts before. But... it's been a while. And usually... it was just... something stupid, clothes, or... or a doll, or sewing kit. No one's ever... given me something I actually _wanted_. Until today. So... thanks.”

Kimberly smiled at her. “You're welcome, Mel. Was happy to do it. And even though we _are_ probably gonna die in the next few days, I hope it was worth it.”

“Oh, it was,” the blonde girl said with a short laugh. “But I don't doubt that she _is_ gonna make us eat yellow snow.”

Kimberly shrugged. “Urine is a sterile liquid. Bet I eat it faster than you.”

Melanie couldn't help but laugh again. “You're such a fucking weirdo.”

“And proud of it!” Kimberly stuffed the last of her cake into her mouth and then tossed the wrapper into their wastebasket. The two girls then hid their comics, and not a minute too soon, because right after they did, Ms. Wallace passed by to announce lights out.

As Melanie settled back onto her pillow, she heard her roommate whisper through the darkness: “Merry Christmas, Mel.”

“Um... Merry Christmas,” Melanie whispered back after a momentary pause, and then she drifted off to sleep, feeling a lot better than she had in a very long time...

* * *

**December 31 st, 1996. 11:50 PM, Pacific Time**

“Hey, Kim...”

“Yeah?”

“You really wanna see some stupid ball drop?”

Kimberly turned her head slightly towards the blonde seated to her right. “Not really. Why?”

“Let's sneak back to our room. I have something I wanna show you.”

The two girls were seated with most of the others in the Rec Room, being supervised by Ms. Wallace. Even though it was now New Year's Day on the East Coast, a local TV station was replaying the earlier celebration in Times Square for those who lived in the Pacific Time Zone. This was the one day of the year where Joan let them stay up past curfew, so they could watch the ball drop. The students all spent the time leading up to it having a party of sorts: watching television, playing games, socializing.

Now the lights had been dimmed, and most of the eyes were fixed on the replayed broadcast. It was easy for two girls of small stature to sneak out unnoticed, which is what Melanie and Kimberly did. After they arrived back up in their bedroom, Melanie shut the door, walked over to the window, and opened it.

To say Kimberly was intrigued was an understatement. She was wondering why Melanie would take an initiative such as this, and what the blonde wanted to show her, when Melanie reached outside, pulled two cans of soda off the sill, then shut the window once more and went to sit down on her bed. She held one of the cans out to her roommate.

“I, um... I didn't feel like going through Des, so I swiped these from the teacher's lounge,” Melanie said, her cheeks tinted with a slight haze of red. “I... I hope you like this flavor.”

Kimberly's smile was a foot wide as she sat down on her own bed and accepted the can. It was nicely chilled, courtesy of the natural refrigeration of the winter night outside. Melanie had clearly put some thought into this. “Are you kidding?” She said with a laugh. “Dr. Pepper is my favorite.”

“Really? It's mine, too.” Melanie opened her can and extended it to Kim. “Um... cheers, I guess.”

Kimberly knocked her own can against Mel's. “Cheers!” She exclaimed. After they'd each taken a sip, she asked: “So, I'm just curious. What's the occasion?”

“Well, it's... not because I feel I owe you for the snowball thing. It's just... this term has been kind of a bitch. I mean... I probably could have passed that stupid book report on my own, but you _did..._ um, suggest a new theme, which I explored, and I got a passing grade. And then... cutting that frog open. You suggested that I pretend it was Regina, and that... _may_ have given me the boost I needed to get through that damn thing. Plus, you know... all the training and stuff... I guess I just wanted to...” As Melanie was talking, her cheeks started to flush, and the color grew deeper the more she spoke. Kimberly was now looking at her slack-jawed, which the blonde girl picked up on. “What?” She snapped suddenly. “What the hell are you staring at?”

Kimberly shook her head, smiled again. “Nothing. I know what you're trying to say, Mel, so you don't have to say any more if you don't want to. Happy New Year.” She offered her can out for another toast.

Mel blew a sigh of relief. “Is it midnight yet?” She asked.

“Who cares?”

“Yeah, not me. Happy New Year.” The two girls knocked cans together again.

“It has been quite a year, hasn't it?” Kimberly ventured after taking another sip. “And, you don't have to say anything if you don't want, Mel, but... I'm glad we're roommates.”

“Well...” Melanie stumbled over her words for a moment. “I'm... pretty sure I don't hate you.”

The other girl laughed. “Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Well, yeah,” Melanie said, her own laugh a little nervous. “That's... how I meant it.” The blonde grew strangely silent, then, as she thought back over what a year it _had_ been. It had started with her managing to liberate herself from that fanatical foster couple, and had ended with her in another state, learning how to fight people with knives. Ever since what happened on Christmas Day, she'd been asking herself: _could_ she settle down here? Find a new life? Maybe even... happiness?

 _Nah_ , that small voice deep inside her spoke up. _You know that life isn't for you. Kim seems okay, but... as soon as you get that knife, you're gone, so don't bother getting too close. It's just easier that way._

Midnight had come and gone at this point. Melanie had been silent for a few minutes, and it was starting to make her roommate fidget a little. “Hey, Mel?” Kimberly asked. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Melanie lied, and managed to fake another smile, raising her can. “Here's to 1997!”

“Right,” Kimberly said, and returned the toast, though she noticed that odd look never left Melanie's deep amber eyes.

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

So, first I have to give a shout-out to my friend Illyrilex. When I entered this project, I knew that I would be telling the story of a young girl growing up, going through everything a girl would go through as they progressed from age ten to seventeen. But I'm a male who's almost forty with no kids, so I don't have much perspective. But she does have perspective, since she has kids, and her input has been invaluable in shaping the voices of Melanie and most of the other characters to make them sound natural. Plus, she's followed this fic from Day One, and let me bounce a few Christmas-y ideas off of her for this chapter. So thank you, Ills!

Also, Ills is on the west coast, so another shout-out for explaining to me how people in other time zones watch the ball-drop in Times Square on New Year's Eve. I’ve never celebrated New Year’s anywhere except the East Coast.

And concerning Kimberly's stocking: Priss is a character from “Bubblegum Crisis,” an anime she likes.

I also have no plans to write a scene for Regina’s retaliation, since I didn’t want to detract from Mel and Kim’s moment. It happens off-screen at some point, and I will leave it at that.

Well, that's all for now. Please review, if thou art so inclined.


	11. Crossing the Line

So, it's been a while since my last update. I'll have more to say about the end, but for now, let's just dive in. Enjoy!

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the anime.

* * *

_Chapter Eleven: Crossing the Line_

**Friday, January 3 rd, 1997**

“Hello?”

Melanie stood in the outer doorway of Joan Landy's office and called out when she saw the assistant's desk unoccupied. The headmistress had asked to speak with her after lunch, but this was the first time the blonde had been in her office and not seen the assistant waiting to say that Joan was expecting her.

“Candace is on vacation until Monday, dear,” Melanie heard the older woman's voice call through the half-open inner door. “Please show yourself in.”

Melanie approached cautiously, and as she got close, she found Joan sitting at her desk, going over what looked like some documents. She was smartly dressed as always, not a single loose strand in the honey-blonde bun her hair was pulled up into. Today, she was also wearing a pair of reading glasses, which Melanie was not used to seeing on her. They made her look like a librarian, except sterner.

Melanie stood in the doorway and gave a small cough. Joan Landy raised her head from her work and slipped off her glasses. “Melanie. Please come in and sit down.”

Melanie did as asked, albeit with some hesitation in her steps. She was halfway to the small leather chair when Joan noticed the large purple bruise in the center of her nose, along with some scrapes on her cheeks. “What happened to your face, dear?” She asked.

Melanie took her seat with a shrug. “Nothing. I was... running on the sidewalk in the quad, slipped on some ice, and I fell. No biggie.” All lies. In truth, she and Kimberly had been ambushed by Regina and her dogs yesterday, who had finally doled out some punishment for the snowball incident.

“I see,” Joan said with a nod. “Well, I trust Gladys took good care of you.”

The smaller blonde nodded, remembering the choice vocabulary she'd used when the nurse had broken out the peroxide. Then she decided to change the subject. “Um... why am I here, Ms. Landy? Did I do something wrong?”

Joan laughed. “Oh, not at all, dear. Now that one term has ended and another is about to begin, I just... wanted to ask about how you're doing? Do you feel you're fitting in all right?”

Another shrug. “I think I'm fitting in okay. It's a school. I've been to them before. I know how to get by.”

“Yes, I'm sure you do, dear. At least, your work seems to reflect this. You're doing an admirable job getting caught up academically, if the reports I've been getting from your teachers are any indication. But then, I had no doubts about that. I knew you were a smart young lady from the moment we met. A few behavior problems here and there, and Ms. Kelly has some objections to the things you have to say about your required reading, but what child isn't a work in progress? That's why you and the other girls have me here to guide you.”

“Um, Ms. Landy...” Melanie sat up straighter in the chair. “What _is_ this place, really? I mean, I like gym class and all, but... somehow, I don't think the judge would have given you custody of me if he knew there was an ex-Marine here, teaching kids to fight with knives.”

For a long while, Joan scrutinized her charge, poker face in rare form. Then she actually gave a chuckle. “I've told you what this place is, Melanie. It's a school designed to nurture young women who possess a unique set of skills, such as you. Frankly, you're getting a much better education here than most children in a public school system.”

“Is that why we have the fences? Because kids from other schools are dying to get in here?”

Joan's expression became more serious, then. “What have the other girls been telling you, dear?”

“Nothing, really. I don't talk to them a lot.”

“Well, I see you and Kimberly together all the time.”

“Well, she's my roommate. And my combat training tutor. Kind of hard for me to avoid her.”

The headmistress leaned forward, fingers steepled in front of her face. “Melanie, my child, believe me when I say that the security measures I have put in place at this school are for your safety. They are not to stop you from leaving, but to stop undesirable people from getting in.”

Melanie leaned forward now, as well. “Who _are_ these people?”

“Not to be trifled with,” was the answer. “And that is all you need know at this time.” Joan put her glasses back on, then, resumed poring over the work on her desk. “I'm pleased to hear you're adjusting, dear.” She waved a hand absently at the door. “You may go now.”

Melanie got up from the chair and left, though her mind was racing a little. She was absolutely certain now that Joan Landy was hiding something from her, and probably from the rest of the girls. But whatever it was, the petite blonde likely wouldn't be around long enough for it to affect her.

 _As soon as I get that knife, I'm a ghost._ This reminded Melanie that she wanted to practice some of the new forms Kimberly had shown her before gym class started, and so she changed direction in the hall outside, heading towards the exit that would spit her out closest to the practice field.

* * *

**January 7 th, 1997**

English class had just gotten out. To Melanie's dismay, they had been assigned another book, this one called “Little Women,” and it sounded even worse than the last book.

“Something tells me this book's gonna be filled with characters who are pussies,” Melanie told her roommate as they walked down the hallway. “Like, even bigger pussies than Ponyboy.”

“Wanna make a wager?” Kimberly asked her. “You get a higher grade than me on this book report, I'll buy you, um... a jar of Tabasco.”

“Tabasco?” Melanie raised a blonde eyebrow.

“Well, any hot sauce you want. Doesn't have to be Tabasco.”

“And if I don't get a higher grade?”

Kimberly thought for a minute. “Then... you buy _me_ an action figure to add to my collection. One of the Bubblegum Crisis girls that I don't have yet.”

Melanie shook her head. “Nah. One of the only useful lessons I learned from a fake dad is never to gamble... unless you can fix the outcome.”

“Good advice,” the dark-haired girl said with a laugh.

The girls stopped at the bulletin board to see what their next class was... and both of them glanced at each other in confusion when they saw that it was something called “Health Sciences.”

“Any idea what this is?” Melanie asked.

“Never seen it before,” Kim answered. “But you know Landy. It'll probably be a class about oats and vitamins.”

They moved quickly to drop their English books off at their lockers and then move to their new class before the bell rang. When they arrived, they and the other girls in the class were all surprised to find plastic baggies on their desks. Melanie sat down and opened hers to find several unexpected items: a few tampons (she recognized what they were since she'd once seen them in one of her foster moms' medicine cabinets), a stick of Secret deodorant, a disposable razor, a small travel-sized can of shaving gel, and a tube of toothpaste.

“What the hell is all this?” One of the other girls asked, a sentiment echoed by the others in the class. While they were busy talking amongst one another and trying to guess what was going on, Joan Landy entered the classroom. At the sight of the headmistress, all conversation ceased and everyone rose from their chairs.

“Be seated,” Joan said in a crisp voice, and the students did so. Joan then took her own seat behind the large mahogany desk at the front of the room. “Now then, my children: I am sure you're all wondering what we are doing here.”

There were only nods, no verbal responses. Not even Melanie wanted to risk detention by saying something sarcastic, since it was unexpected for the woman who ran the school to be teaching a class.

“Well,” Joan went on to explain. “It's quite simple. As the faculty nurture your minds, unlocking your full potential, your bodies are also growing. There will come a day when you will be women, and not girls. And so this class is meant to help you understand and process the changes your bodies will go through as you make that transition.”

Joan then spent the next forty-five minutes explaining the items in the bags, and when the bell rang, she had been starting to discuss the physical changes of puberty. “Well, girls,” the matriarch said as she rose from her seat. “We'll pick up where we left off this time next week. Meanwhile, the bags and everything in them are yours to keep. If you have any questions about _anything_ we discuss here, come see either myself or Gladys. I've ordered my assistant to clear some time for me this afternoon. Now, do we have a volunteer to erase the board?”

A few hands went up, and after she had selected a student, Joan rose from her desk and left the classroom. “Well, that was interesting,” said Kimberly.

“Tell me about it,” Melanie said, as she rose from her seat and gathered up her things.

“Hm.” Mel's roommate cocked an eyebrow at her. “I know when you're being sarcastic. And you're not right now.”

Mel looked at her roommate like she was crazy. “Yeah, why would I be? I'm looking forward to this.”

Kimberly laughed. “What? To bleeding and cramps?”

“Yeah,” Melanie said, still completely deadpan. “My whole life, I've been too short. Maybe puberty will finally give me a growth spurt. Plus, if I can grow a pair of boobs like, say, a few of the girls at King of Fighters, then maybe I can feel better about myself.”

Kimberly said nothing at first, trying to choose her words. Both girls liked to read the same magazine, which revolved around women in the professional fighting scene, and so they'd seen the same articles on fighters like Mai Shiranui and Mary Ryan. She also knew Melanie was extremely self-conscious. It had caused her to run laps at a few gym classes, as the small blonde didn't like to change in front of the other girls, and waited until most of them were out on the field before she doffed her school uniform and put on her active one, which would sometimes make her late. It was also the reason why she usually showered in the dorms after gym class, rather than use one of the stalls in the shed.

Finally, the dark-haired girl gave a shrug. “If you say so.”

“Come on, that would be totally awesome,” Melanie chided her.

“Oh, I'm not saying it wouldn't be. I'm just saying maybe you shouldn't get too excited. We have no idea what's gonna happen. Everyone is different.”

“As a fellow runt, I'd be getting _more_ excited, if I were you. I feel like the odds are that short girls like us would get a growth spurt from puberty. I mean, we need it.”

Kimberly thought about saying that she was happy with who she was, but Melanie might take it the wrong way. So instead, she said: “I think we've got math class next.”

“Ugh, don't remind me,” Melanie rolled her eyes. “Wonder what useless shit Coleman will have us learning this time.” She'd scraped through his class with a C on her last exam, just like her book report. “I'd rather talk about how cool it is that Landy gave us razors. Those things have a million uses.”

“Yeah, like shaving our legs and armpits when they start growing hair,” Kimberly retorted.

“Or... we could find a way to get the blades out and slip them into Regina's pudding cup.”

The dark-haired girl frowned. “I wouldn't go that far, Mel. That's the type of thing that will probably get you expelled and arrested.”

Melanie laughed and slapped the other girl on the back. “I know, just joking. Probably.” This earned her a look from her roommate, so she said: “No, really, I _am_ joking. I mean, when they retaliated for the snowball fight, I took my beating in silence, right?”

Well, Kimberly _had_ to give her that one. “True. You stuck to our agreement.”

“So if anything, I'd just... cut her a little. Only a little.”

For whatever reason, their Health Sciences class had put Melanie in a good mood, given her something Kimberly had never seen: hope. So she just laughed, and Melanie laughed with her.

 _I just hope that puberty doesn't disappoint her_ , the dark-haired girl thought to herself. _But there's time to worry about that much later._

* * *

**March 6 th, 1997**

****“Yes! That's it, Mel! Move like the river, sting like the river!”

The two girls were doing their usual session on the practice field, and once again, Kimberly was letting them play with rubber knives before they moved onto the real meat and potatoes of their lesson. She'd been doing this more often, ever since they'd finished with basic defensive blocks and graduated to more interesting styles of unarmed combat. She learned that it helped keep her pupil focused, and also, she just enjoyed doing it.

Kimberly tried a low jab with her fake blade towards Melanie's gut. The plucky blonde pivoted her body while at the same time moving her knife from right hand to left, and then sweeping her own weapon in a downward half-moon circle, deflecting her opponent's weapon. She then quickly moved the knife back to her right hand and grabbed Kimberly's wrist with her other hand, preventing her from blocking with the faux blade.

Her knife arm then tried to swing downwards, to a point where Kimberly's neck connected with her collarbone, but the dark-haired girl used that momentum to twist her own body backwards. As they fell, she thrust upwards with her right leg to throw her opponent off her, sending Melanie flying several yards to sprawl into the dirt.

“You're doing a lot better,” the dark-haired girl said as she regained her feet and walked over to Melanie. “The way you're using both hands, I can see you're reading the books I recommended.”

She was, of course, referring to the fact that both of them were ambidextrous, something they'd learned during Melanie's first week of school. “I am not left-handed,” Melanie said with a faux-Spanish accent as she got to her feet.

Her roommate just looked confused. “I know you're not. S'why I just said you can use both hands.”

The other girl's brow crinkled. “Wait... have you never seen 'The Princess Bride'?”

“Um... nope.”

The blonde girl laughed as she got back into ready stance. “Well, next time we go into town, I'm swiping it from the video store. You'll like it.”

Now Kimberly laughed. “Just get a Blockbuster card, you dummy.”

“Um, would they even give me one? I'm eleven.”

Her tutor had been in ready stance, but then relaxed just a little. “Wait... I thought you were ten. Did you have a birthday recently?”

“February 4th,” Melanie answered. “Now come on, let's mix it up.”

Kimberly went back into ready stance and began circling, her knife wrist swaying loosely in front of her. But by her expression, she wasn't ready to drop things just yet. “Wow... I wish you'd said something, Mel. Like, told me it was your birthday.”

“It's no big deal,” Melanie said with a shake of her head. “I mean, I don't even know if it's my actual date of birth. It's just the date that the penguins found me on that doorstep, so it's what they put on my papers.” She then swung her blade low, a move that would have disemboweled her opponent had it been real.

Kimberly's own knife swung down to deflect, and then she tried an upward swing that would have brought her blade up the length of Mel's breastbone. The blonde tried to bring her own knife hand back to divert the other girl's weapon, and managed to avoid a “fatal” slash, but the blade still grazed her shoulder.

“Good,” Kimberly said. “Adaptation. Prediction. You're getting faster, more loose.”

“Think maybe I'm ready to spar with the sarge?”

“I dunno about that. He's a machine. But you're getting close to the point where I'd recommend a spar in gym class with one of the more experienced girls.”

Five minutes later, both girls were sitting in the dirt, catching their breath and sipping water. Kimberly had that same look on her face she'd had earlier. “I hate to sound annoying, Mel,” she said. “But I honestly feel bad about missing your birthday.”

“You shouldn't be,” her roommate said with a shrug. “Even before I got here, I never really celebrated my birthday. At least, not with any of my fake parents. If I were in the orphanage, the nuns would give me a cupcake with a candle in it, but that was pretty much it.”

“Wow...”

Melanie gave her a scowl. “You're not gonna say you're sorry, are you?”

The other girl actually laughed a little. “No. Even though I _do_ kind of know how it feels. Because we're all orphans here, none of us know when we were born. Landy just chose May 16th as an arbitrary birthday for all of us, and on that day, we get cake for dessert after dinner.” She sipped her water, then, her expression growing more thoughtful. “But I like that you've chosen your own birthday. Maybe _I'll_ do that, too.”

“Well, I didn't really choose it,” Melanie pointed out. “The penguins just put it on my papers.”

“It's not your real birthday and you've never tried to change it. So... sounds to me like you chose it.”

“If you say so.”

“I do,” Kimberly affirmed and rose to her feet. “Now... if you're ready, we can move onto the real lesson.”

The small blonde stood up as well, backed away several paces, and assumed her stance. “Bring it!”

* * *

**May 14 th, 1997**

****The next two months went by fast, just as Melanie's first term did. Largely because she was kept so busy. There were still a few classes she struggled to catch up in, and her sessions with her roommate also took up her afternoons three days a week. In addition to that, gym class had become more lively. Hartman arranged times on weekends for each girl to run the obstacle course, which proved to be a huge thorn in Melanie's side. She managed to scale the wall on her third attempt, but there were plenty of other booby traps to be wary of, such as the fact that Hartman could make the balance beam shake.

“I could have gotten that wall on the second try,” the blonde later confided in her roommate. “If I had something to hold myself in place, like what mountain climbers use. Crampons, or something like that.”

“Don't be too hard on yourself,” Kimberly told her with a shrug. “That course is a thorn in all our sides. And the sarge makes us run it more in the weeks leading up to Field Day.”

Melanie had been told about the event that the school ended their academic year with before summer started. It sounded to her like an odd way to end it, but maybe she could find something she was good at.

At the current moment, however, it was gym class. Melanie had been asked to spar with Janis, and so far, the plucky blonde had been doing justice to her tutor's progress reports to Hartman. Regina had cornered Melanie in the shed earlier, saying she'd be smart to let the hazel-eyed girl win if she knew what was good for her, and Melanie had responded by telling Regina to go lick a dead dog's taint. Oddly enough, she hadn't gotten a headbutt for that. The taller girl had simply walked away.

 _No time to think of that now,_ Melanie thought to herself. _I've got me a skank to beat down. Like I'd ever throw a fight to one of Regina's cunts._ Janis swung her left foot upwards in a kick aimed at Melanie's head, to be deflected by a tight upward swing from the blonde's right forearm. This was followed by a low-blow with the left fist aimed at the solar plexus, but Melanie brought the same arm downward in a chopping motion, deflecting it again.

The blonde girl followed this with a jab from the left fist that popped Janis on her right cheek. The other girl was definitely startled by this, as were most of the people watching (except for Kimberly, whose dark brown eyes were full of pride), but the heat of the moment let her shake it off without too much trouble.

She countered more swiftly than Melanie thought she would, blocking the blonde's next jab and bringing up her knee to connect with Melanie's hip. So Mel went back on the defensive, taking a few small hops in the opposite direction of Janis, her stance and movements the opposite of what they'd been at her first class: up on the balls of her feet, arms chest-level, loose yet ready to tense.

 _The river..._ Melanie thought to herself. Janis hung back for the moment, eyeing her opponent warily. “Didn't Regina talk to you earlier in the locker room?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Melanie answered with a shrug. “Did she not tell you about our chat?”

“She didn't get the chance before class started.”

For a split second, one side of the small blonde's mouth curled up in a devious smirk, but she forced her expression back to neutral and dropped her arms to her sides. “Okay, then. Thanks for reminding me about that. So... go ahead and hit me.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah, it's what she told me to do, right? So... go to town.”

Janis flashed her a cold smile. “Smart runt. Don't worry, I won't hurt you too much.” With that, she rushed forward, raised one leg in a stomping kick aimed at the center of Melanie's chest... which never connected. At the last minute, the wiry blonde brought both her hands up to clamp down on Janis's sneaker-clad foot. She then jerked the leg upwards and sent the brunette sprawling into the dirt.

Janis was so startled she almost didn't roll out of the way in time to avoid the heel drop that Melanie followed up with. She quickly got to her feet, and assumed a defensive stance. “What the hell?” She shouted. “I thought you agreed to throw this!”

“I lied,” Melanie said with a snicker. “And you fell for it, you stupid bitch! Damn, you're gullible.” She laughed a little louder, then, bringing the red to her opponent's face. Janis lost her temper and lunged forward into a careless charge, which Melanie easily sidestepped, at the same time bringing her arm out and upwards, knocking her opponent's jaw and clothes-lining her back to the ground.

“Had enough?” The small blonde asked. “Or you wanna keep eating dirt sandwiches?”

Janis was still fueled by anger and indignation, and responded by sweeping out with one leg, hooking Melanie's shin with her foot and sending her into the dirt as well. She then tried to climb onto the other girl, intending to grab Melanie by her bangs and bash her head into the dirt a few times, but Melanie managed to gain enough leverage to plant the sole of her sneaker into Janis's stomach and thrust upwards, flipping the brunette off of her.

She tried to find her feet as quickly as she could, but it was not quick enough to avoid a gut punch from Janis. Her opponent tried to follow this with two more jabs to the torso that Melanie managed to deflect with her wrists, and then Melanie countered with a low kick that buckled Janis's right leg, then a knee to the solar plexus, then finishing with an uppercut to the chin, knocking the girl back into the dirt once more.

The blonde was about to advance again when she heard a voice from outside the combat zone: “That'll do!” She looked over to see Hartman raising one hand. Melanie took a deep breath, then gave a nod to the teacher. After a moment, Janis got to her feet, brushed some dirt off her white sleeves, and also gave a nod.

“That's some good improvement, Melanie,” the square-jawed man went on. “A far cry from the first time I observed you. I can see that Kimberly is not exaggerating in her progress reports. Well done!”

Melanie gave another nod. “Thank you, sir!” This was followed by some applause from several of the girls assembled. The blonde glanced over at her roommate, who grinned broadly and flashed a thumbs-up. Melanie flashed one back, and then walked out of the combat zone in her direction while Janis slunk back over to the rest of her crew.

Hartman then divided the class up as normal: those with their knives went off for training in that regard, while those without continued practicing their forms in unarmed combat. In truth, Melanie was a little bored to be doing that after her victory, but it was made better by the fact that Hartman approached her towards the end of class.

“I liked what I saw today, Melanie,” he told her. “Enough so that I've instructed Kimberly to start incorporating some basic drills with a rubber training knife after this academic term has ended.”

Melanie managed to feign an expression of pleasant surprise, to avoid giving away the fact that her tutor was already showing her things with rubber knives (and leaving this out of her reports). “Really, sir?”

“Yes, I think you're ready for it. We'll start with drills and slowly work our way into styles of knife combat. A few of the other girls are also making progress in their studies. So you and them are going to start sparring with rubber knives in the usual gym classes, as well.”

Melanie grinned and actually saluted him. “Thank you, sir!”

Hartman gave a curt nod. “Thank Kimberly. She's been an excellent tutor.” He then raised the whistle to his lips and blew. “That's a wrap, ladies!” He called out to the other girls. “Hit the showers!”

Melanie quickly found her roommate amidst the bustle of students making their way back to the shed. “So, I didn't get a chance to tell you this earlier,” Kimberly said. “But awesome job on Janis!” The two girls then exchanged a high five.

Melanie felt about as good as she had at Christmas. “Well, it's like you said: Be the river.”

“I saw that today. It was awesome to see you applying that. And putting your own touch on it. It was pretty cool the way you psyched Janis out.”

The blonde girl shrugged. “People like her are easy. I'm just glad the sarge didn't call me on it, citing his 'code' or some shit.”

“Well, I don't think trash-talking an opponent is the same as throwing dirt in their eyes.”

“Hey, they both work.”

“Well, speaking of work,” Kimberly said. “Did the sarge tell you you're moving up in your studies?”

“He did,” Melanie said, not trying to hide the grin on her face. “And, well... you know that I... um... I... wanted to say that...”

Her roommate clapped her on the back. “It's okay, Mel, I know what you wanna say. And you don't need to thank me. I've told you my reasons for doing this. And honestly, you're making it easy for me. It's clear that you're committed to doing the work. The sarge sees it too.”

Another shrug. “I'd take lessons from Satan to get one of those knives.”

Kimberly actually laughed at that. “Like I said, you're committed.”

As they got closer to the shed, Kimberly expected the blonde girl to peel away and head back to the dorms to shower there. Instead, Melanie said that she needed to get something from her locker first. So they entered the fray with the rest of the girls.

They noticed Regina and her clique standing down at the far end of the locker room, looking strangely subdued. “Good fight today, runt!” She called over to the smaller blonde.

“Of course it was!' Melanie responded. “Your bitch lost. Now, if you'll excuse me...” She turned to her locker and opened it, but whatever else she was going to add to her retort died in her throat as an avalanche of plastic cockroaches spilled out onto her with the opening of the door, knocking Melanie to the floor and leaving her half-buried under a few hundred fake, but very realistic-looking bugs.

Kimberly looked down at her friend, ignoring the laughter of most of the other girls in the room. There was something about the expression on Melanie's face that was unsettling. The lip quivered, the amber eyes rolled in their sockets, a small vein on her forehead throbbed. But perhaps what made the black-haired girl most uneasy was that Melanie didn't make a sound. No screams, as she was expecting after what happened at Christmas.

She got down on one knee, started to hold out a hand. “Come on, Mel, let's just get out of...”

“ _Nnnnnnooooooo!”_ Melanie's shrill scream echoed through the locker room, silencing the laughter of a few of the girls. “No! They're everywhere! All over. Get them off me! _GET THEM OFF MEEEEE!”_ She started to flail her arms, beating at the pile of roaches on her while she continued to scream the same thing over and over.

Most of the room was now frozen in place, the only ones still laughing were Regina and her crew. A few of the girls had left the shed to go find an adult. Out of all them, Kimberly seemed the most composed, as she was down on her knees, doing her best to dig her friend out of the pile of plastic bugs and get her to her feet, made more difficult by the fact that Melanie was still swinging erratically, and Kimberly had to duck every now and then to avoid a hit.

“They're all over!” The blonde girl continued to rave. “Let me out! Let me out please! I promise I won't do it again! They're crawling all over me!”

Finally, enough of the bugs were cleared away, but it still took a few tries for Kimberly to get a grip on Melanie's wrists. The arms still flailed, and Kim took a smack on the head at one point, but finally she had the grip she needed, and yanked the screaming blonde to her feet. Even then, Melanie continued to rave, so Kimberly pushed her up against the wall, pinned her arms at the wrists.

“Look at me, Mel!” She shouted over Melanie's loud babbling. “ _Look at me!_ You are okay! You're safe, all right? These bugs are fake. They can't hurt you.”

But Melanie continued to act like she was in another world, or replaying some distant repressed memory. She was looking directly into Kimberly's eyes, but still... it seemed like she was looking at something else. She clutched the other girl's shoulders almost desperately and kept babbling. “No! No, they have to let me out! I won't do it again. They're all over me! Have to get them off...”

“Melanie, calm down, _please_!” The dark-haired girl was almost pleading. “You're not there. You're here. And I'm here too. Please, just calm down!”

After another minute, she realized that words alone probably wouldn't work, so Kimberly reared one hand back and slapped her roommate. This seemed to calm her down a little, to the point where she seemed to remember where she was, but she still clung to Kimberly, not daring to look at the pile of plastic roaches.

“Maybe next time, when we tell you to let us win, you'll listen, runt!” Melanie glanced at the far end of the room, saw Janis leering at her. This seemed to ignite a spark in the petite blonde's brain, and she pushed her roommate aside and closed the distance between her and the brunette with fast speed.

“You think this shit is funny?” She growled at Janis, her amber eyes taking on an almost threatening sheen, one that made even the rest of the Alpha clique stand back a pace.

Janis was not as quick. “I think it's hilarious. Little Melanie pissing herself over plastic roaches.” She followed this with another mirthless laugh.

Melanie responded with a laugh of her own, with even less mirth, making even the other members of Regina's crew step back another pace. Janis was not as quick, and stood her ground, still chuckling.

“Lemme show you what I find funny,” Melanie said in a calm voice that was almost eerie, and followed this with a swift punch to the gut, silencing the laughter almost instantly. She then grabbed Janis's right hand, pressed it in the open frame of her locker door, and started to slam the door shut over and over.

The laughter in the room had now truly died, even from Regina, and one could have heard a pin drop were the shed not filled with the slamming of the door against Janis's hand, the brunette girl's agonizing screams, and Melanie's mocking tone. “Well, go on, laugh! I can't hear you! What? Don't you get it?”

A few seconds later, the blonde girl felt two arms hooking under her armpits, then she was wrenched free of her adversary, who immediately crumpled to the floor, clutching her wounded hand and sobbing. Kimberly dragged her roommate away from Janis, and then slammed Melanie up against another locker.

“Melanie, _please!_ For God's sake, just stop! Get a hold of yourself!” Those amber eyes met Kimberly's dark brown, and then her small frame began to sag. “That's it...” Kimberly coaxed her. “Just calm down... please calm down.” Her tone was once again pleading, as if what she was seeing was scaring the shit out of her, too, and she just wanted it to end. Which was not far from the truth.

Melanie's expression changed in an instant, and her eyes began to shine with unshed tears. “Kim... I... I can't... I can't go back in there...”

Kimberly pulled her into a hug. “It's okay, Mel. You're safe. The bugs can't hurt you. They are not real.” And both girls moved to their knees. Mel hugged her back, suppressing the urge to start sobbing, though her body still trembled.

Regina started towards the two of them. “Why the hell are you so concerned about _her?_ You saw what she did to my friend.”

Kimberly was on her feet faster than the Alpha anticipated, startling her. “First of all,” she snapped, facing the other girl with no fear, her rules forgotten. “She's not your friend! Just your fucking lapdog! And second, you saw what your prank did! Melanie doesn't just hate bugs! She has a... what do ya call it... a phobia of them! Something happened to her in the past! Something bad. And your prank just fucked her up big time because it reminded her of that!”

Regina's pale blue eyes narrowed into slits. “I would think very carefully, if I were you, runt number two, before you decide to get between me and...”

“ _FUCK YOU!”_ Kimberly snarled at her. “I am _not_ gonna let you touch her right now! And if you wanna challenge me over that, then fucking _bring_ it!” Her hand hovered over her knee sock, and the knife that was sheathed there.

The two girls stared each other down, the smaller one unimpressed by the other's height span over her. Just when it looked like another fight would break out, a voice of authority called out: “What is the meaning of this?”

All heads except two turned to see Joan Landy standing in the doorway, arms folded smartly over her breast. Her steel-blue eyes swept the room, taking in everything that was out of order: Janis crumpled on the floor, clutching her hand and whimpering like a wounded animal, Melanie also huddled on the floor, trembling and muttering, Regina and Kimberly ready to go at each others' throats. When no one spoke, she repeated in a firmer tone: “Well? I asked a question, girls.”

Regina took a deep breath, straightened herself out a bit. “Melanie just attacked Janis, Ms. Landy.”

“She wasn't herself, Ms. Landy,” Kimberly spoke in her defense. “She... started going crazy because Regina filled her locker with plastic roaches.”

“I dunno what she's talking about,” Regina countered with a shrug. “I mean, yeah, it was funny, but where's the proof that I had anything to do with this?”

“Just like you had nothing to do with what happened at Christmas?” Joan asked, her eyes narrowing into deadly slits.

“Ms. Landy, I swear...”

“I'm _not_ stupid, child, so don't treat me like I am. You think I don't know what goes on at my school?” Joan Landy's gaze might have turned some lesser humans to stone. For a moment, Regina actually forgot her status among the girls of the school and withered beneath it, backing away to stand with the rest of her crew. The headmistress then turned to one of the girls standing nearby. “Samantha, will you run and fetch Gladys? Tell her it's an emergency.”

“Yes, ma'am,” said the girl, and left the locker room at double speed. Joan spent the time until she arrived asking the other girls what they'd seen, seeming to ignore the major players. When the nurse did arrive, Joan asked her to see to Janis.

Gladys only needed a cursory look, and then she said to Joan: “I can't treat her in the infirmary, ma'am. She needs the hospital in town. There's multiple broken bones.”

Joan gave a terse nod. “All right. Just give me a moment.” She walked briskly over to where Janis still crouched and knelt beside her, one hand gently rubbing the girl's back. Her tone became more matriarchal, as it was the night she'd first met Melanie. “Janis, dear... listen to my voice. I know you're in pain, child, but you must concentrate. If anyone at the hospital asks you what happened, you will tell them that you were running in the hallway on the second floor, you tripped, and fell out an open window. Do you understand?”

The girl sucked in a sharp breath, and managed to get out: “Y-yes, Ms. Landy.”

“Repeat it back to me.”

After Janis had done so, Joan stood up again and said to her nurse: “All right, take her to the infirmary. Keep her as comfortable as you can until the ambulance gets here.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Gladys picked the girl up in her arms like she weighed nothing and started out of the locker room. After she was gone, Joan Landy began to issue more commands.

“Regina, I want to see you in my office now. Kimberly, take Melanie to the infirmary. Tell Gladys to give her _something_ to calm her nerves. And tell her as soon as Melanie _is_ calm, she's to send her to my office.”

“Yes, Ms. Landy,” Kimberly answered. She'd already gotten the small blonde to her feet, though Melanie seemed oblivious to Joan's presence, and started with her roommate towards the exit. Regina simply gave a small nod.

Joan then addressed the room in general. “All right, girls. Despite all this excitement, our schedule has not changed. Clean yourselves up and get back into standard uniforms. Dinner is at six, as usual. Anyone who does not arrive before grace is said will not eat.” With that, she left the locker room, Regina following at what the Alpha hoped was a safe distance, still trying to look defiant.

* * *

_“Melanie, what did I tell you about leaving messes? That's it... you need another time-out!”_

_Darkness... a dirt floor beneath her... but it felt like the darkness was alive, crawling across her skin..._

_“No... I won't do it again! Just get them off me!”_

_She beats at the darkness that seems to be alive and crawling, scuttling over her. She lashes out with a small fist, strikes something spindly and chitinous... shell smashed... juices flowing... wings twitching... but there's more. There's always more..._

_“They're everywhere! You have to let me out! Please!”_

Slowly, her amber eyes came open, taking in the sterile surroundings of the infirmary, a far cry from the darkness of her dream. Two hours had passed since Kimberly had brought her here. Gladys had given Melanie a very small dose of Thorazine upon her arrival and laid her on one of the empty cots before she focused all her attention on making Janis as comfortable as possible.

Now, the brunette had long ago been picked up by paramedics. Gladys was the only other person in the infirmary, and she hummed softly to herself as she organized one of the cabinets. Her back was to Melanie, but she turned when she heard the blonde girl stir and sit up on the cot.

The caregiver was at her side in seconds. “Easy, dear,” she said, handing Melanie a small glass of water. “Don't move too fast. You've been asleep for a few hours.”

Melanie said nothing, simply looked out the window and saw that the sun was a lot closer to the horizon. “Guess I missed dinner,” she muttered, and took a long sip of water.

“Are you hungry?” Gladys asked her. “I have some snacks I set aside for my patients: graham crackers, pudding, peanut butter and apple...”

“Crackers would be nice,” Melanie answered, still trying to wake up.

Before she complied, Gladys took a few moments to check Melanie's pulse and temperature, and listen to her lungs. “You seem much calmer now, dear,” she said with that smile that Melanie now believed was seventy-percent sincere. “Guess you just needed a little nap.” She shouldered her stethoscope and walked over to one of the cabinets, returning a moment later with a small package of graham crackers.

Melanie tore the pack open and bit off a corner of one cracker. “Yeah, I guess,” she said. She was afraid more questions would follow, but thankfully none did.

For a minute, Gladys was silent as she watched Melanie eat. Then she said: “You gave us all a scare, dear. But sometimes, the best thing in these situations is to just take a little rest.” With a shrug, she rose and went back to her organizing. “Oh, by the way,” she added. “Ms. Landy wanted me to send you to her office, when you were feeling better.”

Melanie stuffed the last bite of cracker in her mouth and reached for her sneakers, which the nurse had removed and placed at the foot of her cot. “I figured. There... isn't any way you could tell her I'm still sick?”

This garnered a small chuckle. “I'm so sorry, dear, but... you know I can't do that.”

“Figured that too.” She finished tying her shoes and got up from the cot, grabbed her bandanna and hip satchel off a nearby chair, and started towards the door. “Thanks,” she added on her way out.

“Of course, dear.”

The small blonde attempted to dawdle on the way to Joan's office, but found that hard to do given the late hour. So a short time later, Melanie found herself standing in the outer doorway, the familiar sight of Candace off to her right, sitting at a desk and clacking away on a typewriter. “She's expecting you, Melanie,” the assistant gave the customary greeting without looking up. “Go right in.”

So Melanie started the “walk of doom” and was soon seated before the headmistress. Like clockwork, Candace appeared in the doorway and shut the door. For a minute or two, Joan Landy did not speak, simply sat there with fingers steepled in front of her face. Then she cleared her throat. “Melanie... is there anything you'd care to tell me about what happened today?”

“I think it's obvious. I had a problem with Regina and her crew, and I solved it.”

Joan shook her head. “I've received word from the hospital. Janis has six separate hand and finger bone fractures. She'll be in a cast for at least four months. She's going to miss Field Day. At least her prognosis is good. The breaks are clean, so the doctor says she's expected to recover full dexterity of the hand...”

“Well, whoopdie-fucking-doo,” Melanie grumbled. “If she's gonna recover, then why are we even here?”

Joan slammed a fist down on her desktop, startling her young charge for the first time in a while. “Do _not_ take that tone with me, young lady!” Any further protests died in the small blonde's throat. After a moment, Joan let out a large breath, and her tone softened a bit. “Melanie, I understand what goes on between some of the girls at my school, even though they don't bother to tell me. Which I admire, since I'm attempting to teach all of you to be self-reliant. You, in particular, possess this quality in abundance.”

“I don't like letting anyone else fight my battles,” Melanie said with a shrug.

“And again, I admire this. But some lines shouldn't be crossed. One thing I cannot have is any permanent damage done to any member of this community. When someone threatens to cross that line, then I must step in. I understand your desire to be self-reliant, but you can _never_ take things as far as you did today. Is that understood?”

The young girl's expression was somehow unreadable, even for Joan Landy. Some time passed, and the headmistress was about to repeat her question when Melanie said: “Yes, Ms. Landy.”

“Very well.” Joan leaned forward slightly. “But I still have some concerns. Based on what the other children told me, your reaction to a childish prank was... far too extreme. I feel there's a reason for that, something from your past. Which is why I ask again: Is there anything you'd care to tell me?”

Another pause, a look of calculation in those amber eyes. “No... Ms. Landy.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am, Ms. Landy.”

Now it was her turn to give Melanie a calculating stare, followed by another shake of her head. “Very well, then. I am afraid that I must still drive the importance of this lesson home to you, child. It's going to take more than detention to get my point across.” Joan got up from her chair, turned and stared out the window for a moment before continuing. “Melanie, I'm afraid that I must place you in solitary confinement for two days. So you can reflect on what you've done, and understand why it's important you never do it again.”

The blonde girl nearly jumped up from her own chair. “I understand that already, ma'am. If I have to beat someone, don't break bones. I got it.”

“And that's why you'll be given an example of what happens when you _do_ cross the line. Regina is facing similar punishment, to reflect on her own actions.”

“I don't really care about _her_ , she's the one who started this...”

Joan turned back towards her again, one hand raised. “My word stands, child. Candace will escort you back to the dorms, so you can change out of your gym uniform into something clean, and then she will escort you to your designated room. While you are in solitary, you will not speak, unless it is to answer questions. Do you understand?”

Melanie was now standing, as well. “I understand this is bullshit...”

Joan fixed her with a hard stare. “It is now three days. Would you like four?” There was no response, though the girl's own stare was just as hard. “As I thought,” the headmistress said after a minute, and then called for her assistant.

After Candace had left with Melanie, Joan turned back to the window again, watching the evergreens beyond the fence, slowly being swallowed by the approaching dark of night. Finally, she turned back to the desk, picked up a phone, and dialed a number.

“It's Landy,” she said to the person who answered. “Patch me through to the Director, please.” After waiting on hold for a few minutes, the connection was completed.

“This is unorthodox,” the voice on the other end spoke in lieu of greeting. “You calling us, instead of the other way around.”

“I apologize, sir,” Joan spoke crisply. “But there's been an incident.”

“An incident? What kind of incident?”

“The report is being sent via e-mail. We've had a slight behavioral problem, but everything at the school is under control. However, I would like your authorization to use the cleaners.”

A long pause at the other end. Then: “For what reason?”

“Intelligence gathering. There are things about young Melanie's time away from us that we need a better understanding of. Things she refuses to discuss.”

“We already have complete records of her adoption history.”

“Records can only tell you so much, sir. Sometimes you need to go straight to the source. And I feel this is one of those times. It's necessary if we are to properly rehabilitate her.”

“Routine interrogation?”

“Most of her old foster parents are deadbeats. It shouldn't take much effort to get them to talk.”

Another long pause as he considered. “Very well. Your authorization is granted. Keep me apprised.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you.”

The line disconnected after that. Joan placed the phone back onto its cradle, then moved to her cabinet and poured herself a scotch over some ice. She sat back down at her desk and took a sip before picking up the phone and dialing again.

After a few rings, there was a click. “Hartman here.”

“It's Landy,” Joan spoke in a cool voice, swirling the ice in her drink with the other hand. “I just spoke to the Director. We are a go...”

* * *

**May 16 th, 1997**

It had been a long week, and Kimberly was looking forward to some rest. The last two nights in particular, sleeping next to an empty bed, had reminded her of how she'd been the odd one out for so long, and how happy she was when she finally got her own roommate.

 _I hope Melanie's all right_ , she thought as she got ready for bed in the dorm bathroom. On the way to the infirmary she'd kept talking to her friend to try and calm her down, and she warned that Landy might use solitary as a form of punishment. “They keep those rooms pretty clean, though,” Kim assured her. “No bugs. At least, none that I saw when I spent some time down there.” The dark-haired girl had stayed in the infirmary until she saw Mel was resting comfortably, and that was the last she'd seen of her until just before lights out, when Landy's assistant escorted her back to the bedroom for Melanie to change clothes.

Thankfully, Candace hadn't noticed the contraband that Kimberly slipped the other girl. _So at least she won't be too bored_. Still, the birthday celebration earlier today hadn't been the same without her roommate. Not to mention that Melanie's reaction to the plastic roaches still gnawed at Kimberly's mind, enough to make her want to forget their agreement and ask a question.

But she would worry about that tomorrow, when her friend was released from the hole. For now, she needed rest. Kimberly spit the water in her mouth into the sink, wiped her mouth with a small hand towel, then picked up her toothbrush and started towards her room.

She almost did a double take when she entered to find Regina sitting on Melanie's bed, but managed to keep herself composed. “What do _you_ want?” She asked the Alpha. “You forget where your own room is after just two days in the box?”

“We need to have a talk, Kim,” Regina said as she stood up, using a tone Kimberly had never heard before, a calm voice that immediately put her on edge. “Have a seat.”

Kimberly stood her ground in the doorway, and after a few seconds went by, she expected the taller girl to bark a command. Instead, Regina rolled her eyes and said: “Please.”

Moving cautiously, Kimberly sat down on her own bed, never taking her eyes off Regina. Her unwanted guest moved to Kimberly's dresser, looking at the collection of anime figures spread out over the top. She picked one up and turned it over in hands, and then, to Kimberly's surprise, placed it back where she found it instead of just tossing it and making a mess like she normally would.

“Look, what do you want?” The dark-haired girl growled impatiently. “I'm not in the mood for any shit tonight.”

“Everyone's talking about Melanie's outburst,” Regina told her.

“You mean the one you caused?” Kimberly spat with defiance.

“She overreacted,” the blonde girl insisted. “And now Janis has a broken hand and wrist.”

“Oh, that's too bad,” Kimberly dripped sarcasm. “Remind me to buy her a 'Get Well' card when we're in town tomorrow.”

Now it was Regina who gave a growl of impatience. “Don't you see, Kim? What happened after gym class two days ago only proves just how dangerous she is! She's not one of us, and never will be. She's a freak. What if something like this happens again, and she hurts someone even worse than Janis? What if that 'someone' is you?”

Kimberly had no response to that, so Regina went on: “And I know that you like to think that you two are friends, but do you really think she gives a shit about you? She'd probably sell you out in a heartbeat if it meant saving her own skin.”

The smaller girl sat up a bit straighter at that. “You're wrong. You don't know her like I do. Yes, she can be a bitch at times, but she's had it rougher than us before she came here. Deep down inside her, there is a decent person. You'd see that if you gave her a chance.”

Regina picked up another figure off the dresser, turned it over before setting it back down. “Look, I'll just cut right to the chase. I'm here to give you an opportunity. You've always busted your ass more than everyone else, earning your knife along with the rest of us to try and prove you're more than just a runt, but you've never actually been one of us. Now, I'm offering you the chance to join me and my crew. To stand with us as equals, and enjoy the perks of being on top of the social ladder.”

Kimberly eyed her with suspicion. “But not for free, I'll bet. So what would I have to do?”

“I got a problem,” Regina explained. “Landy has already told me that I'm not allowed to use bugs to prank Melanie anymore. So I need to find another weakness, something else she's afraid of, that I can use against her. Amanda told me she hates frogs, but I don't think she hates them as much as roaches. That's where you come in.” She pointed a finger at Kimberly. “She trusts you. Enough. You can get me some dirt on her, some dark secret I can _really_ use to knock her down a peg.”

“What makes you think I would do that?”

“Because you're smart. Smart enough to know that I'm right. Melanie _is_ dangerous, and if you keep associating with that runt, eventually she's gonna drag you down with her. You can let that happen, or you can accept my offer, and _truly_ be one of the elites at this school.”

Kimberly still eyed her with suspicion, though slightly less than before. Regina felt she'd gotten her point across, so she concluded: “Find Melanie's weakness for me, and you'll be set. Otherwise...” She swiped at the dresser-top now, knocking several of Kimberly's figures to the floor with a clatter. “I'll give you time to think about it. But you're also smart enough to know that if I were to make Melanie the same offer I just made you, she wouldn't _need_ to think about it. I'm right and you know it. So sleep tight.” With that, Regina left the room.

Kimberly stared at the door after she was gone, but made no move to pick up the figures on the floor. Instead, she changed into her nightshirt, crawled under the covers, turned off the lights, and tried to sleep. But despite how tired she was, she spent the next hour staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought, before she finally conked out.

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

So, yeah, thanks for your patience these last two months. One of the reasons this was a long time coming is that I'm juggling two other side projects. But one of them should be finished soon, so the next chapter of this shouldn't take as long.

Anyhoo... I went there, folks. Malin's profile says she dislikes bugs, but I have turned it into a full-blown _phobia._ There's a reason for that. Answers are coming...

Also, it's the 1990s in this story. So Blockbuster Video is still very much a booming industry.

Once again, I'd like to thank Illyrilex for putting up with my probing questions involving girls and the changes puberty brings, which I'll continue to try and tackle throughout this story in the least creepy way possible. Her input was invaluable when writing Health Science class.

Well, that's that. Until next time, feel free to review!


	12. Solitary

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime.

* * *

_Chapter Twelve: Solitary_

At the bottom of a flight of stone steps behind a locked and barred door in an area of the school Melanie had never ventured into (largely because it was off the beaten track) was a hallway with a concrete floor, and several rooms leading off of that, each one behind a heavy door. The rooms were identical, nothing in each of them except a cot and a toilet. It was here that Candace led her after Melanie changed her clothes.

"Now, you remember what Landy said," the assistant told her as she stood in the doorway. "No talking for the next three days, except to answer questions."

The small blonde, seated on the edge of the cot, gave a small nod. Then the door was shut and locked, and she had nothing but time. Well, that and something extra. She waited until Candace's footsteps had retreated up the corridor, then she reached into her pocket, pulled out the yo-yo that her roommate had discreetly passed her while Melanie was changing.

_Thanks, Kimberly_ , she thought to herself. Unable to fall asleep just yet, Melanie sat on her cot for another hour and just twirled the yo-yo out away from herself in a half-moon circle, catching it in her hand each time. It was dark, but she noticed that some light came in from a very small window over the bed, close to the ceiling. It provided just enough illumination for Melanie to forget the crawl space in her first foster home, where she'd suffered many a time-out. It also helped that Kimberly was right. Apparently, Joan's staff sprayed regularly for bugs and mice, because Melanie didn't even see any droppings.

She soon learned that solitary was exactly like the punishment she'd faced in the orphanage. Well, not exactly the same, but in some ways. Melanie was awoken by a knock at eight o'clock the following morning, and then a metal tray was pushed through a large slot towards the bottom of the door, which contained breakfast. Plain oatmeal, toast, yogurt, applesauce, small carton of skim milk… overall, not bad. _I mean, they bring it right to my door,_ and _I got to sleep a little later_ , Melanie thought as she tucked in. And the oatmeal was nasty, but it was better than the lukewarm porridge she got when the nuns punished her.

A half-hour later, there was another knock, and a voice demanded the empty tray, which Melanie passed through the slot. A half-hour after that, the first of her school assignments was pushed through the slot. She was asked if she needed any additional supplies, to which Melanie responded by requesting an empty composition book. She received two more assignments on the hour, and then lunch. After lunch was two more assignments, and then Melanie had nothing to do until dinner.

The silence didn't bother her much. The nuns at the orphanage had been very big on no talking from the children, even when they were behaving. It was the boredom that got to her. Melanie could only keep herself amused with the yo-yo for so long. Even through the thick glass of the window above, the small blonde could hear voices of people, so she assumed it looked out onto the quad. The last thing she would do, however, was risk a glance out that window, lest someone spot her and report her.

But they let her keep the composition book, and her copy of "Little Women," so for a while she tried to busy herself by taking notes for her book report. She was not having an easy time of it. _So many of these characters are pussies,_ Mel thought to herself. _But I kind of like Amy._ By the time that dinner had been brought to her, consumed, and then taken away, she'd been reduced to drawing a comic of characters from the novel getting stabbed by Jason Voorhees.

The sun went down. Once again, she couldn't sleep. She killed an hour by twirling the yo-yo, then she noticed the light once more coming through the window. Moving as quietly as she could, Melanie got up, began pushing her cot slowly towards the wall, inch by inch so as not to make a sound. Finally, the metal frame rested up against the concrete wall. The plucky blonde stood up on the frame, pulled herself up to the window, and peered out. She saw the quad, now devoid of movement save for the searchlights which swept across it. She watched them for a few minutes, then sat back down on her mattress, opened her notebook to an empty page and started writing some things down. When she was done, she boosted herself up again and looked at the quad some more. Then she dropped back down and jotted more notes.

She was so engrossed in this activity that it was an hour after lights out for the other girls by the time Melanie was finished, and curled up under the covers of her own cot. She went to sleep with an odd smile on her face.

* * *

**May 17th, 1997**

It was shortly after what she was served her dinner on the third day when Melanie heard the door open. The impassive figure of Joan Landy stood in the doorway, looking as stern as usual, not a strand of her honey-blonde hair out of place. "Well, my child, was your time here enlightening?"

Melanie, sitting on her cot, managed to avoid glancing at the composition book on her lap. "Extremely enlightening, Ms. Landy," she answered.

"I'm glad," Joan said with a curt nod. "It's been three days, so you may leave now."

Trying not to appear too eager, Melanie gathered up her things and followed the elder woman out into the hall and up the stairs. Once they reached the top, Joan pulled a key from the pocket of her mustard-colored blazer and unlocked the heavy door. "Go straight back to the dorms, Melanie," she told her young charge. "I've already told Ms. Wallace to expect you."

"Yes, Ms. Landy," Melanie said, and started off. Thankfully, she didn't run into anyone, either on the walk back or in the dorm itself. _Regina and her cunts must be in the rec room_ , she thought. With her composition book tucked under the beige vest of her uniform, she made her way to the second floor towards the relative safety of her bedroom.

"Welcome back, Melanie," Ms. Wallace called from her own room as Melanie walked past the open doorway. "Lights out ain't fer another two hours. May wanna get a shower before you turn in!"

"Thanks, ma'am, I'll think about it," Melanie called back. But still, she did feel kind of funky. It _had_ been three days, and the wet towel she'd been issued every morning while in the box could only do so much.

Kimberly was not in their room, and a small part of her felt some regret at that. But it did make it easier for Melanie to secure her notebook. She then grabbed a towel and made her way to the showers, as Ms. Wallace's suggestion _was_ a good one. A hot shower after three days in solitary turned out to be the hygiene equivalent of lobster thermidore. Melanie spent almost a half-hour under the warm spray, and wouldn't even have cared if another girl came in to use the adjacent shower while Melanie was still cleaning herself up. She breathed a massive sigh of relief when she finally turned off the water, dried herself, wrapped the towel around her torso, and went back to her bedroom.

Kimberly was lounging on her bed, flipping through "Little Women," as their book reports were due by the following Friday. To Melanie's amusement, she'd actually found this book as boring as the blonde girl had. Kim looked up and smiled when her roommate entered. "Welcome back," she said.

Melanie actually gave a small smile of her own. "Thanks," she said. "It was easy. Solitary here is nothing compared to the penguin house."

Kimberly gave a shrug, but per their agreement, decided not to ask any probing questions. "I had to do it once. It was fucking hell for me."

"Well, you find ways to deal with it. I thought it was enlightening." Melanie moved to her dresser, quickly changed into clean sleepwear, then did a belly flop onto her bed. She gave a contented sigh at the feel of the mattress, much better than the harder cot she'd been subjected to for the last few days.

The dark-haired girl waited until it looked like Mel was done having her moment, and then said: "Well, I am sorry that you missed birthday cake yesterday."

Melanie turned onto her back and shrugged. "Meh, whatever."

She heard her roommate get up from her bed then, and rummage through her dresser drawers. Melanie was tempted to sit up and see what was going on, but she was just too comfy. Then she heard Kimberly slide the drawer shut and move back to her bed, sitting down on the side facing the blonde girl. "Here, Melanie," she said.

Now Melanie sat up and saw that Kimberly was offering her what looked like a locket. "What's this?" She asked.

"You don't have to think of it as a late birthday present, if you don't want to," her roommate explained. "It's just… I've had this for a while now, and I _can't_ even remember where I got it. And… I've never worn it, but I always kept it, for some reason. But… I've never been attached to it, so… if you want it, it's yours."

Melanie looked her in her dark brown eyes. "You okay?" She asked. "I feel like you're acting kind of weird. I mean, you're always weird, but… more than normal."

"Nah, I'm fine," Kimberly insisted, perhaps a little _too_ fast. "It's just been a long week. For us both."

"True." Melanie reached out and finally accepted the locket. "Um… thank you."

"Don't mention it," Kimberly said with a shrug.

The blonde girl turned it over in her hand. It was pretty featureless on the outside, constructed of amber with a gold trim. After a brief outside examination, Melanie opened it and found there was no picture inside.

"I never put a picture in it," said Kimberly. "Could never find one I liked."

"Whatever," said Melanie. "I… appreciate this." She got up, then, stashed it in her bottom drawer, then crouched there for a moment with the drawer still open, and after thinking, pulled out her composition book. "Hey, Kim, check this out."

Kimberly was genuinely curious. "What is it?"

Melanie got back into bed, seated herself pretzel-legged, and began to flip through the lined pages. "There was a window in solitary," she said. "It looked out onto the quad. So when it got dark, I could watch the movements of the searchlights on the lawn." She came to the pages she was looking for, one of which had a crude rectangular diagram with notes in the margins, while the opposite page contained more text in what looked like a timetable.

"I think I may have figured out their timing," Melanie went on. "And their patterns. So we could sneak by them unnoticed if we ever wanted to." She turned the notebook over and held the pages out for her roommate's scrutiny.

"Why would we need to sneak by them?" Kimberly asked.

"In case we ever needed to be up after lights out," Melanie said. She raised one golden eyebrow at the other girl. "Kim, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, Mel, I am," Kimberly insisted. "Just… figuring out this book report is driving me crazy." She reached behind her, snatched up her copy of "Little Women," and showed it to the small blonde.

"Maybe I should reconsider making a bet with you," Melanie said with a laugh and closed the notebook. Then she got up and slipped it back into its hiding place. "But this stupid book has got me stumped, too."

"Yeah. At least the last book had blood." Kimberly laughed as well, then sat back down on her bed and resumed reading. After that, there was not much more conversation between them. Melanie had forgotten what it was like to sleep in a real bed, and so she was under the covers and out cold a half-hour before lights out.

Kimberly reached over and snapped a finger in front of her face. The peacefully-sleeping blonde did not stir. So the ebony-haired girl switched off the lights and silently slipped from their bedroom. She made her way downstairs to the rec room, where most of the girls were wiling away the time until Ms. Wallace started making her rounds. Among them were Regina and her pack, who sat around a table playing Egyptian Rat Screw.

Janis, her right hand and wrist in a hard cast, looked ready to pounce despite her injury. "The fuck do _you_ want, runt?" She snarled when she noticed Kimberly.

"I have business with your leader," she snapped, her eyes fixed on Regina, not even giving the lesser bitches a side glance.

"Oh, bullshit," Sunako growled, ready to jump from her chair, but Regina raised a hand.

"You heard her," the tall blonde spoke in a firm voice. "We have business. You girls take five. Let us speak in private."

"But…" Janis started to protest.

"I said give us a minute!" Regina snapped, her eyes narrowing. The hazel-eyed girl looked like she wanted to say more, but she finally rose from the table with the others and left the rec room.

Once they were alone, Kimberly fixed the Alpha with a hard, cold stare. "I've made my decision."

Regina quirked one eyebrow. "And?"

Kimberly took a deep breath, blew it out in a sigh. "If you really want to hurt Melanie, I can tell you how to do it."

A cold smile spread slowly across the other girl's lips. "I'm listening."

Another deep breath. "Okay. There's something that Melanie hates even more than bugs. I mean, this could _seriously_ hurt her…"

Regina nodded. "You'd better hope so. Because if this does work, it'll guarantee you a spot in the group. Now tell me everything..."

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

So, most of the official art I've seen of Malin has her wearing something around her neck. Sometimes, it looks like a locket. Sometimes, it looks like an ID tag. For my fic, I've decided it's a locket. Because it'll work better for the story. But now I'm getting ahead of myself. ( ;

And Egyptian Rat Screw: it's a card game. Like War, except more interesting. Look it up.

And that's all for now. I know it was short, but the last few chapters have been long. Plus, there's a fun cliffhanger for you all while I map out the next chapter. Until next time...


	13. Field Day

This has been a long time coming, folks. Let me assure you that this project is still alive and well. The only way I’ll ever abandon an unfinished fic is if death takes me.

  
  


The problem was that real life has been taking up a lot of my time lately. Not only the holidays, but I moved into a new apartment at the start of the New Year, and have been getting settled in. Not to mention that in my outlines, I had the key events in Melanie’s growing up mapped out, but I was missing some filler material and other things to connect Point A to B to C, and so forth. I think I have a clearer idea of those connections now and hope to update at more regular intervals. Thanks for your patience, and I hope that it will now be well-rewarded as this chapter will show you Kimberly’s decision, and its consequences. Please enjoy, and as always, feedback is welcome.

  
  


All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don’t own them or the video games. I won’t say that any original characters belong to me, but if anyone else wants to use them, just as a courtesy, could you shoot me a PM first telling me you’re doing it? ( :

* * *

  
  


_Chapter Thirteen: Field Day_

  
  


**Saturday, May 31st, 1997**

The door to the general store came open with a _ding,_ its top edge striking the small bell nailed to the frame. The dark-haired boy behind the register cast a quick glance up from the customer he was helping, flashed Melanie a smile that made the blonde girl want to stuff his hand in a food processor, and then turned back to the person directly in front of him.

“Sixty, sixty-one, and sixty-two is your change.” Desmond Jones finished counting the coins from the register and handed them off to the plump, middle-aged woman on the other side of the counter. “Thanks for shopping, ma’am.”

“Thank _you_ , dear,” the customer responded, and picked up her paper bag. “Such a helpful boy. Please tell your father I said hello.”

“I sure will, ma’am,” Des said with a nod. After the woman had left, Melanie grabbed a Snickers bar off the candy rack, and approached the register. _Suppress the urge to strangle him_ , she thought to herself. _Remember, you don’t need the entire school hating your guts._

Even after Joan Landy had called an assembly in the wake of the incident with Janis, and explained that Melanie’s outburst was the result of some deep-seated phobia brought on by people who’d helped raise her in the past (Melanie was still wondering how the matriarch had figured _that_ out), the school was still largely divided on her. Half the girls thought she was an outcast, and the other half was indifferent, as long as Melanie left them alone. Kimberly was still Kimberly, but to her credit, she didn’t ask more probing questions after that assembly, even though the blonde girl could see on her face how much she _wanted_ to.

That was one of the reasons she had sneaked away from Kimberly, who was her “buddy” on this latest trip to town, as always, and was even deigning to enter Des’s family’s store. After that first trip, her disdain for him had only grown, since he always had some snide remark whenever he saw any of the girls from Landy’s school.

“Afternoon, um… Melanie, isn’t it?” Des said as she got closer to the register. 

“Last time I checked,” Melanie said with a shrug, avoiding eye contact as she placed her snack on the counter.

“You don’t come in here enough,” he said, and punched buttons on the register.

“Well, I’ve been busy with stuff,” the small blonde answered, managing to keep her voice neutral. “But I’m here now. And that’s because I know you can get things.”

“I’ve been known to acquire things,” Desmond said with a nod. “But does this have to be all business?”

“The bus is pulling out soon,” said Melanie, still keeping her voice level. “So I’m afraid I don’t have time for anything else. I need something, and I’ve got the money. So… can we do business?”

The boy gave a sad shake of his head. “Sure. What is it you need?”

“I need an item to be sent in your dad’s next delivery,” said Melanie. “And I need this kept a secret from Kimberly.”

Desmond gave a nod. “Ninety-three cents for the candy. As for the other thing… I need to know what it is you need.”

Melanie pulled a dollar from her pocket, and after handing it over, told Des what she was looking for. Des gave her a figure, and without any snark, she produced the rest of the money.

“So, how _is_ Kimberly?” Des asked after he finished counting it off.

“Same as always,” Melanie said with a shrug. “A weirdo.” There was something about the way he spoke her name that set off all her alarms.

“I think she’s kind of cute,” Des said with a shrug. “Receipt?”

“Well, she’s got a bad case of acne right now. So, she looks like Quasimodo fucked a pizza. And no thanks.” Melanie pocketed the candy, suppressing the urge to split open his nose with her fist. “So, you’ll have that item delivered by Field Day?”

“Of course,” Des answered. “Anything for a lady. Tell Kim I hope she feels better.”

“Sure thing,” the small blonde said, left the store, and started walking in the direction of the bus.

“ _There_ you are!” She heard a voice behind her after she’d been walking for a few minutes. Melanie turned her head and saw her roommate double-timing it up the sidewalk. “You ditched me while I was taking a leak. I was afraid I’d have to report to Wallace that you ran away.”

“Why would I do that?” Melanie asked with a casual shrug. “I just wanted to get a snack from the store and I figured I’d spare you having to look at Des’s ugly mug.”

Kimberly quirked one black eyebrow. “Did you mouth off to him?”

“No! I behaved myself.” Melanie did her best to sound just a little insulted. “But… the next time you see him he might ask about your terrible acne. So just… play along, okay?”

Kimberly thought about asking what that meant, since her face was clear at the moment, but decided against it. “Sure, whatever.” She fell into step beside her roommate, and then asked: “Why’d you need a snack, anyway? That Big Mac wasn’t enough?”

“I wanted some dessert,” Melanie answered. She pulled the Snickers bar out, opened it, and offered Kimberly half.

“No thanks,” she said. “Mickey D’s always sits in my stomach like a brick after I eat it.”

“Same,” said Melanie, taking a bite of the candy. “But I’ll still get my fix every two weeks, just ‘cause Landy would never let us have it at school.”

“Same,” Kimberly echoed, and the two girls continued on towards the bus.

* * *

**Friday, June 13th, 1997**

Breakfast had just ended, and fifty girls were assembled on the Quad in their gym uniforms, standing as straight as they could. Janis was towards the back row, her hand still in a hard cast. Melanie did her best not to look at the hazel-eyed girl, and instead focused her attention on the makeshift podium that had been set up.

Joan Landy stood behind it, with Wallace on her left and Hartman on her right. The headmistress needed no microphone to project as she addressed her girls. “It’s been quite an academic year for all of us, my children,” she spoke loud and clear. “My staff and I have done our very best to nourish your minds and bodies, as we always do. Now you all have a chance to show off how much your skills have grown, not just physically, but in here as well.” She tapped two fingers against her forehead.

Now Melanie couldn’t help but look around at some of the other girls. The shirts of a few uniforms did appear tighter, not so much due to any development in the front, but rather to an increase in vertical height, even though a small handful of girls (most notably Regina and Amanda) had experienced some growth in that _other_ area. It _had_ been a little depressing yesterday afternoon when Gladys had measured all the girls and documented the numbers in her files, which according to Kimberly happened at this time every year. “Landy uses that info to order new uniforms for all of us,” her roommate explained.

Everyone appeared to be growing. Even Kimberly had another half-inch. Meanwhile, Melanie was still at four foot five, the same height she’d been at the beginning of last year. So it looked like she'd be wearing her original uniform for a while, which was a depressing thought.

“Now, even though this is a chance for individual accomplishment, and sadly there is one of you who cannot participate,” Joan went on. “I still want to see teamwork and sportsmanship. Like the young _ladies_ we all know you are. I have every confidence that you’ll do this school, and your faculty, proud. Good luck!”

With that, the girls began to split up. As they did, Melanie failed to notice the questioning glance Regina gave Kimberly, which the dark-haired girl answered with a nod and a wink. But then, the small blonde had other things on her mind. 

In the weeks leading up to this day, sign-up sheets had been placed in the hallways of the school. Every girl was free to sign up for as many events as they wished, provided there was no overlap. Melanie had been a bit more selective than most of the other girls, choosing ones that she thought she stood a good chance of winning.

But when she got to her first event, Archery, it turned out to not be her forte, as she was eliminated in the first round. “It was all that wimpy safety gear,” she tried to justify it to her friend afterwards. “It got in the way of my aim. You never see them wear any of that pussy shit in the movies.”

Kimberly had scored among the top ten and so was moving onto the next round. “Why would movies tell the truth about that sort of thing?” She asked with a laugh. “Remember what Landy said, Mel. The objective is to have fun.”

“Well, I can think of a few ways to make this more fun…” 

Kim put a warning hand on the other girl’s shoulder. “Don’t, Mel. You know that anyone caught cheating will get thrown in Solitary for a few days.”

“I wouldn’t get caught. Lend me your knife and I can cut a few bowstrings for you, improve your odds.”

“Forget it, Mel. I give you my knife, I probably won’t see it again.”

Melanie pretended to look wounded. “I thought you said we were friends.”

“And we are, except when knives are concerned. Then we’re just mentor and pupil, remember?” Kimberly jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Now take a hike before you miss your next event. It’s over on the other side of the school.”

The event that Kimberly referred to, the Hurdles, was one that Melanie did much better at. But then, her speed and agility were better than several of the other girls, since she’d spent a good portion of her childhood learning to outrun police, child welfare, and abusive foster parents. In the end, it came down to her and Amanda, but the other girl won, since she could take longer strides.

Melanie sneaked away after crossing the finish line, so she wouldn’t have to shake her opponent’s hand. She already knew that as the silver medal winner, she’d need to do that at the awards ceremony later, and once was enough.

The relay race did not go as well. But then, that was mainly because Regina had somehow rigged it so that she and her “bitch squad” were all on the same team. Melanie had been second to last in her own line and gotten the baton to her teammate in record time, but the girl was running against Regina herself, and had let the Alpha win.

“Way to pussy out back there,” Melanie said to the girl later, a pig-tailed blonde named Isabella. “You _know_ you could have outrun that horse-faced cunt, right?”

“And make my own life harder?” The other girl shook her head. “No thanks.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on Izzy,” spoke up another girl, Jaclyn from Mel’s social studies class. “If I were racing Gina, I’d have thrown it too.”

“Thanks, Jax.”

Melanie rolled her eyes. “Um, you girls do know they’re not invincible, right? I think I proved that with a locker door.”

“And while you and Regina were in the hole,” Jaclyn growled at her, “Amanda was running things in her absence. And she vented her anger on the rest of us.”

Melanie thought about pressing the argument that the best way to respond when someone hits you is to hit back, but the only thing stopping her was her agreement with her roommate. So instead, she simply muttered, “does anyone in this fucking place know how to think for themselves?” Then she stalked off to her next event.

For the other events she participated in, she was never able to do as well as she’d done winning silver in Hurdles. Lunch was uneventful, just cold-cut sandwiches, fruit, granola bars, and water or Powerade. But Melanie couldn’t help but watch the “Bitch Squad” out of the corner of her eye; she noticed that Janis was eating her salad with her left hand, when Mel had only ever seen her use her right. Like her, Kimberly and Niko, the hazel-eyed girl seemed to be having no difficulty with the left. But she pushed the thought away as quickly as it had formed. She had other things on her mind. 

As mid-afternoon rolled around, it was time for the last event of the day: Capture the Flag, which took place in the woods on the other side of the fence. Kimberly had told her roommate about this back when the sign-up sheets were first posted. This was one event where all girls had to participate. They were split into two teams of twenty-five, and the object was to venture into “enemy territory,” find the other team’s flag, and bring it back to “friendly territory” before the other team did it first. What made this school’s version of the game more interesting was that the girls were given rubber knives that they could use against one another. If a girl got “stabbed,” they had to sit down on the ground and stay there for the remainder of the game.

After Joan had gone over the rules, she announced: “Now then, we are one person short. So I regret that whichever team Melanie is on will have only twenty-four people.” She ignored the groans of protest from a few of the girls and pulled a folded slip of paper from the pocket of her blazer. “Here are the teams.”

Melanie was not surprised to find that Regina, Amanda, Lacey and Sunako were all on the opposing team. But at least she was on a team with Kimberly and Niko, so she could ignore the grumblings from a few of the other girls about being a person short.

“Well, look at it this way,” Kimberly said to the rest of the girls on the team after they’d been divided up. “Thanks to Mel, we only have four Alpha bitches to deal with on the other team instead of five. Now, we should probably talk about how we’re gonna beat them.”

“Figures you’d defend her,” Janine said with a roll of her eyes.

“And who the hell made _you_ team captain, anyway?” Chimed in another girl named Kaitlyn. 

“No one,” said Kimberly. “But we have a limited amount of time to plan our strategy, and everyone else seems to be spending it bitching about our predicament instead of actually coming up with a fucking plan. So if someone else wants to lead, be my guest. Any takers?”

There was silence in the circle. Even Melanie, who hated being a follower, figured their odds would improve if Kimberly took the helm. So she also said nothing. “All right, then,” the dark-haired girl went on. “Regina is their best player, so we need to take her out of the game as early as possible.”

“Good luck with _that_.” A girl with a short blonde bob named Ramona rolled her eyes. 

“Nah, I got an idea,” said Kimberly. “You’ll all like it. It involves using Melanie as a decoy.”

Her roommate took a step back. “Wait, _what_?”

“Well, see, here’s what I’m thinking, Mel. Regina hates you more than anyone else here. So… you lure her away from any teammates backing her up by… um, just being yourself, I guess. Do what you normally do around her. The objective is to piss her off as much as you can, so that she loses focus and someone else can come at her from behind while she tries to stab you.”

“I like that plan,” said Janine.

“Well, I don’t,” Melanie retorted.

“Come on, Mel,” Niko argued. “It’s just a rubber knife. And let’s face it, you’re Regina’s biggest weakness. And I mean that as a compliment.”

“ _That’s_ the truth,” laughed a girl named Sierra.

“But then, who’s gonna stab Queen Bitch?” Kaitlyn asked. “I’d rather not get on her shit list.”

“Me neither,” chimed in another teammate, Henrietta. This was met with affirmative nods from most of the other girls.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it, then.”

Hearing that seemed to bring Melanie around. “Okay, if you’re gonna do it, then I’ll be the decoy. But you’d better not miss.”

“Hey, I _did_ get the gold in Archery today. Now, then, we need to talk about what everyone else is gonna do. Mel, you’ve got your role, so go hide the flag.”

Melanie scooped up the scrap of red cloth and broke out of the huddle. “I’m on it. Got the perfect place.”

A short time later, they were all in position within their “territory,” as were the members of the other team. Several members of the faculty and other school staff stood at key places throughout the playing area in the woods, to monitor when a child was “stabbed” and make sure they left the game. After a few minutes of waiting, Joan Landy’s voice could be heard over a megaphone.

“ _BEGIN!”_

* * *

They started by sending Janine and three other girls who were considered the best at climbing up into the trees to scout ahead and provide lookout. Melanie had a feeling that she could probably climb better than any of them, but they couldn’t risk her getting “stabbed” before they located Regina.

She stayed on the ground, close to Kimberly, advancing forward with the other girls on their team only when they heard a signal from above. Two knocks on a tree’s trunk meant it was safe to proceed, three meant an ambush had been spotted.

They’d been advancing, using the trees as cover, but it was starting to get monotonous. Advance a few paces, find cover, listen for two knocks, repeat. Melanie grew bored with it, and began to find it hard to focus. Until after God knew how long, they heard three knocks. Kimberly and the other girls who were part of the first offensive wave instantly took cover behind the thickest trees that were nearby, so Melanie thought it best to do the same.

After they’d been waiting for a moment, Janine appeared in a sturdy, low-hanging bough of the evergreen that Kimberly and Melanie had taken refuge behind. “Straight ahead,” she whispered down to them. “Those bushes on our eleven.”

“Gotcha,” the dark-haired girl answered. “We’ll divert.” Kimberly’s dark eyes flicked left and right, accompanied by a nod of her head. The other girls turned to face her. Kimberly pointed to her right, then made a half-moon motion, which was met with nods of understanding. Like a school of fish communicating with one mind, the girls all moved to the right, in a wide curve around what was perceived to be the threat.

Melanie did her best to keep up with her roommate. Moving as quietly as possible was not new to her, she’d had to do it plenty of times in her life, both to avoid beatings in some of her foster homes, and also to avoid the police whenever she ran away from one of those homes. But the signals… she wasn’t used to working in a team environment like this.

Once they’d moved past the bushes in question, the petite blonde risked some conversation. “Hey, Kim… what’s with all the hand signals?” She whispered. 

“We’ve been playing this game ever since the first Field Day back in First Grade,” the other girl explained. “We’ve developed a system of communication without words. I’m sorry I haven’t really had a chance to teach it to you, but I’ll make up for that later.”

For a brief moment, Melanie again found herself wondering just what this place was, but the thrill of competition soon pushed that towards the back of her mind. The party advanced deeper into the enemy’s territory. For a few more minutes, they kept hearing two knocks. The small blonde was starting to wonder when things might get exciting.

The attack came without warning from the left, as six girls on the enemy team leapt from the undergrowth with their knives drawn. The girl to Kimberly’s left, a brunette named Charlotte, took a rubber blade to the chest and sat down on the grass. Kimberly was a bit quicker, pivoting her body to dodge an overhead swing, and then deflecting two gut jabs with her own blade. Melanie’s rubber knife was out as well, and she barely had time to assume her old, familiar stance before they were on her as well.

“Everyone come together!” She heard Kimberly call over the din of shouts, twigs and leaves being trampled, and the clash of fake knives. “Form a circle! Quick!”

Melanie swung her blade up in a half-moon to avoid a stab, countered with a low sweep that caught her opponent on the thigh (which didn’t take her out of the game but did limit her movement), and then moved to stand back-to-back with her roommate. The rest of their teammates followed suit, forming up on Kimberly’s command. However, one of them, a girl named Angelica, was not as quick and took a rubber blade to the chest, joining Charlotte on the grass.

“Why didn’t the scouts warn us of this?” Kimberly asked out loud, mostly to herself, as the girls deflected knife strikes from their opponents, and did their best to watch each others’ backs.

“Our own scouts intercepted them a while ago,” one of the opposing team said with a laugh. “Janine and the other three have been sitting in the tree where they were stabbed, a ways back down the trail. You’ve been following our scouts since then.”

“That’s actually not bad,” Melanie muttered. “We should try that next time. Or at least pick scouts with better knife skills.”

“Not a good time to talk about that, new girl,” muttered Silvia, a girl standing to Melanie’s right. The small blonde would have said something sarcastic, but this time she had to admit her teammate was right. So she devoted herself to the task at hand. In her head, she thanked Kimberly for the extra training, as it was probably the main thing keeping her “alive” at the moment.

A few minutes later, the Blue Team had lost two of their attack squad, while they’d managed to take out one more, the girl standing to Kimberly’s left in the circle. Melanie cast a quick glance at those sitting on the forest floor, and got an idea. “I’m gonna try something, Kim,” she said. “Cover me.” She then stepped out of the circle and started towards one of the “fallen” enemies, still holding the blade of her weapon out in front.

“Melanie, what the hell?” Kimberly snapped, as she and her teammates took a step backwards to tighten the circle and close the gap made by Melanie’s sudden absence. Kimberly’s opponent, a blonde girl named Riley, saw her moving away and tried to intercept, but Kimberly tossed her rubber knife, and struck the other girl between her shoulder blades. A “fatal blow,” and so Riley was forced to sit down on the grass.

Kimberly was now without her knife, but that didn’t mean she was helpless, though the remaining enemy were focusing on her. Two of them were trying to double team her. She ducked a knife swing from one, pivoted her body to the right to avoid an overhead, and then just barely managed to divert a stab from the first girl with a wrist chop.

“ _Hey_!” For a moment, all activity in the clearing stopped, and every head turned towards Melanie, who had just hoisted another blonde named Rochelle, one of the “fallen” Blue Team members, up to her feet. “The fuck are you doing, you little freak?” Rochelle asked, struggling in the smaller girl’s grip.

“This,” Melanie said simply, and then shoved her opponent in the direction of the two who were double-teaming Kim. She crashed into them, and all three struck the grass in a heap. While they were dazed, Melanie ran over and quickly jabbed the two who were still in the game with her rubber blade before they could get back to their feet.

Naturally, this was met with protests. “What the hell, runt?” Riley shouted from where she sat not far away. “You can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Melanie asked with a casual shrug. 

“Because the rules don’t say you can do that!”

“Did the rules say we couldn’t? I listened to Landy read them off, same as you. She just said that if we get ‘stabbed,’ we’re out. Not once did she say that players who were still in the game couldn’t do that to players who are already out.”

Kimberly had retrieved her weapon by now, and was using the tip of the rubber blade to scratch her chin. “Well, she’s got a point there.”

“Figures you’d take her side,” Rochelle grumbled.

“Ah, what are you bitchin’ about?” Melanie shot at her. “You got offed in the first two minutes of the fight, so you were useless to your team anyway. You may as well serve _some_ purpose.”

“I’ll show you useless, runt!” The other blonde snarled, and started to her feet. Melanie was about to assume her stance when they heard the shrill blast of the whistle through the trees, which meant time out. Less than a minute later, Joan Landy was at the clearing, and listening to the story from both sides, as well as the arguments for and against.

After mulling it over for a minute, Joan came to the conclusion that technically, the rules didn’t say that Melanie couldn’t do that little move. “But moving forward from this point,” she went on. “When a player is out, they are out. Which means they are off limits to those still in the game. If Melanie or anyone else tries that again, they’ll be out as well.” With that, she turned and started walking back to her vantage point.

Kimberly and her teammates who were still in decided to use the few minutes they had until Joan blew the whistle again to head back to their own territory, to regroup and see what the damage had been in their absence. Just after time-in was called, they made it back over the invisible line, and spoke to one of the lookouts, a girl with freckles and a black bob-cut named Olivia. The report she gave them was that the other team had tried an offensive move with Regina at the helm, which cost them four people, but Regina had managed to take out that many defenders as well.

“So, we’re down to thirteen,” said Kimberly. “Not a lucky number.”

“I make my own luck,” Melanie scoffed. 

“And they didn’t get the flag?”

“We’d know if they did,” Olivia said.

The small blonde scoffed a little louder. “Trust me, they’re never gonna find that hiding place.”

Kimberly gave a grim nod. “We’ll have to hope so. Now, did anyone see which way Regina went?”

One of the girls who’d been on the defensive, a blonde named Madison, pointed over the dark-haired girl’s shoulder. “That way. Southwest of here.”

“Maybe we can catch her,” Kimberly said. “Mel, with me. Niko, can you be spotter?”

“I’m on it,” the freckled blonde answered. 

“Good, then get airborne.”

As Niko scrambled up the nearest tree, Kimberly picked three others to come with her and Melanie, then told a second team of three people to follow at a distance and wait for the signal that Regina was taken out. The remainder were ordered to set up a defensive perimeter on their home turf.

“Okay, let’s double time it!” Kimberly told the others. “We can still pull this off if we work together.”

“Stay frosty, everyone!” Melanie chimed in.

“What does that even mean?” Olivia asked.

“I dunno, but it sounds cool.” Sadly, they could not continue this discussion, as Kimberly and her attackers were already moving back over enemy lines, so Melanie had to scramble after them. “Way to almost ditch me,” she grumbled when she at last fell into step alongside Kimberly. 

“Sorry, Mel, but we gotta move on this,” her roommate explained. “We hurry, we can catch up to Regina and take her out of the game.” But as she said this, she seemed distracted by something. What, Melanie couldn’t tell.

“You okay, Kim?”

“I’m fine,” the other girl affirmed. “As you said, let’s just stay frosty… whatever that means.”

Melanie couldn’t help but laugh, noting how Kimberly usually failed to catch her movie references. “You have a lot to learn.”

Her roommate raised a finger. “Let’s can the chatter until we’ve taken take of business.”

The blonde shrugged. “Whatever you say, Landy Junior.” There was no quip in response to this, and so Melanie allowed herself to fall silent as well, her amber eyes scanning the foliage for signs of an attack. The girls paused under a particularly thick evergreen, forming a circle with their backs to the trunk. A few moments later, Niko appeared on one of the lower hanging boughs and flashed some hand signals to Kimberly.

The dark-haired girl nodded, and leaned over to Melanie. “You don’t know all our signals yet, Mel, so I’ll just tell you: Regina is about a quarter mile from here on your ten. Which means…” 

“Yeah, I know what _that_ means,” Melanie said.

“Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen, then: you, Layla and Zoey will break off and head towards her group. She’s got two others with her, according to Niko, so you’ll be evenly matched. Once they’re in sight, Mel can do her thing. Layla, Zoey, can you put personal feelings aside for this?”

“Maybe,” one of them answered. “Why?”

“Because I’m asking you to possibly take one for the team. Your job will be to run interference, keep Regina’s teammates away from her and Mel, whatever you have to do, so I can take the Queen Bitch out.”

The other two girls exchanged a glace. They knew they were being asked because neither one of them liked Melanie that much. Several tense seconds passed, and their gazes moved back to Kimberly. “Okay,” Layla said, speaking for both of them. “But like Mel said, you’d better not miss.”

“I won’t.”

_Pressure’s on her now_ , Melanie thought as she walked off with the other two flanking her. _This is why I’d never want to be team captain._ The three of them did not speak to each other, though the small blonde couldn’t help but notice the way they were walking, in such a manner that their sneaker-clad footfalls made only a minimal rustling on the pastoral carpet of the forest floor, so she did her best to mimic their movements.

When they got close to Regina’s last known whereabouts, she felt Zoey tap her on her left shoulder, and turned her head to face the green-eyed brunette. Zoey pointed to Layla, then held up two fingers on her hand and moved it in a counter-clockwise circle.

“Huh?”Melanie whispered.

The other girl rolled her eyes. “It means we’re gonna break off from you now, move around the clearing to try and flank her support. After we’re out of sight, wait ten seconds, then go and piss Regina off.”

“Just act as clueless with her as you’re being right now,” Layla whispered. “That should work.” Both she and Zoey snickered as quietly as they could at that one.

Melanie felt her ire rising at that. “I got a better idea,” she said, one side of her mouth curling upwards in a smirk.

“And what’s that?” Zoey asked her.

“I do this myself, ‘cause I don’t need you two.” Keeping her wrist loose as she’d been taught and moving as fast as the eye could blink, Melanie’s knife hand flicked both left and right, the rubber blade catching each girl square in the chest. “The rules only say you’re out if you get stabbed. They don’t say it has to be from the other team.”

For a split second, they were both silent, as the movement had been so swift and sure, it took them that long to register what had just happened. Then they began to protest. Loudly, at that.

“What the _fuck_ , new girl?” Layla shouted, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, which was echoed by the black-haired girl on Melanie’s right. As Melanie had hoped, while her teammates were sitting down on the ground, Regina came into sight, flanked by her two guards.

The plucky blonde’s smirk grew more pronounced at the sight of her nemesis, and she ignored the protests coming from either side. “Hey, horse-face, I just realized I didn’t give you any tribute this week.” Melanie then reached one hand down and gripped the white fabric on the crotch of her skirt. “So why don’t you come over here and suck my balls?”

Regina’s eyes narrowed into deadly slits. The two girls flanking her started forward, but she raised a hand. “Stand down. I don’t need your help. This runt is mine.”

“I’m right here!” Melanie answered. “Come and get it!” She began to move her knife from one hand to the other in steady rhythm. Regina padded down the trail towards her, her own knife hand raised in a defensive stance. Her two teammates remained rooted in place, their gaze fixated on Melanie’s own knife movements…

...Just as Melanie was hoping. Again moving in the blink of an eye, she reversed her grip on the knife so she held it by the rubber blade, and then tossed it in their direction. It caught one of the two “lesser bitches” in the stomach, taking her out of the game. The other girl gave an angry growl and started forward with her knife raised.

“Stand _down_ , Jennica!” Regina repeated in a firmer tone. “I told you I’ve got this!”

“Nah, what you’ve got is a face that would make the Elephant Man cry!” Her opponent said with a laugh. Though inwardly, she knew that she was unarmed now, which meant one hundred percent of her trust had just been placed in her roommate. _Don’t let me down, Kim..._

“I wouldn’t be so smug, runt,” the taller blonde said coldly. “I’ve still got my knife, and you don’t!”

Melanie now started to back away at a pace to match Regina’s. “Why are you still talking, when that mouth could be put to better use? My balls are still dry.”

Regina paused in her advance, sheathed the knife. “You know what? I’m not gonna use this just yet. First, I’m gonna have a little fun.”

“Said the same thing to your mom last night!” Melanie then found she had to scramble backwards a little more quickly to avoid the haymaker that Regina threw with enough force to take the smaller blonde’s head off. Melanie quickly raised her arms in the loose defensive stance she’d learned to adapt, and eyed her opponent warily, rocking on the balls of her feet.

Regina was flying on rage, which made her less coordinated, so Melanie dodged the blows more easily than she normally would have. But she knew she could only avoid it for so long. _Come on, Kim, it’s all up to you now…_

She pivoted her body to avoid a stomping kick to her knees, then managed to block a body blow from Regina’s right fist. She responded to that by reaching out with her right hand and slapping Regina across both cheeks. But she overreached in her attempts to mock the Alpha, and Regina capitalized on that by grabbing Melanie’s wrist and slamming her other hand into the smaller girl’s gut, knocking the wind from her.

After that, it became a bit more difficult for Melanie to keep up her rhythm. She dodged one or two blows, but wound up taking several more, which ended with a headbutt that sprawled her on her back on the ground.

“Ow…” the small blonde muttered absently, blinking several times to clear the stars from her field of vision. As the world came back into focus, she saw Regina towering over her, rubber knife back in hand.

“Okay, fun’s over,” the Alpha said with a sneer of triumph. “Time to stab a runt.” She got down on one knee, grabbed Melanie by the collar of her brown pullover, and raised the dagger to bring it down on her breastbone…

But before she could complete the movement, she felt another knife pressing between her shoulder blades, followed by a familiar voice saying: “You’re dead.”

Regina lowered her arms, turned her head slightly to see Kimberly standing over her. “You’d better make this up to me later,” she growled, and moved into a sitting position on the forest floor.

“I will,” the dark-haired girl assured, and then offered Melanie a hand.

“Took you long enough,” she grumbled as Kim pulled her to her feet.

“Well, I had to sneak up on Jen first to take _her_ out,” her roommate explained, looking and sounding very agitated. “Which I wouldn’t have had to do if you hadn’t stabbed your own support. What the _fuck_ were you thinking, Mel?”

The two girls had started walking towards the clearing that Regina had emerged from. “I was thinking that I _could_ have followed the plan. But then I thought: if I stabbed them, they’d yell loud enough to alert Regina. And then Regina, in her arrogance, would have told anyone with her not to do anything. I didn’t even need support in the first place, so I used them. And it was more fun that way.”

Kimberly looked aghast. “But… they were on our team!”

“Who gives a shit? It’s not real. We’re using rubber weapons, so they’re still alive, aren’t they?”

“You’re missing the point, Mel. But I can’t argue this right now. We need to finish the job. And now thanks to you, our attack force is down by two.”

They were passing the spot where one of Regina’s teammates fell, so Melanie stooped and retrieved her knife. “Will you relax, Kim? I told you: no one’s gonna find where I hid our flag. We have all the time we need to pull this off.”

“Assuming we don’t run out of people,” Kimberly fired back. “Think you can avoid stabbing anyone else on our team?”

The small blonde rolled her eyes. “If it means that much to you, then fine! I won’t.”

They were silent as they entered the clearing Regina had left. Kimberly had questions, but instead wanted to focus on the win. Now that the Blue Team’s captain was out, they had a chance. 

While they waited to regroup with the remainder of their attack team, Melanie asked: “So, what did Regina mean by making it up to her?”

Kim gave an absent shrug. “Just that I’ll probably have to pay her extra tribute money this week. You know how it is.”

Something was off in her roommate’s voice, but Mel didn’t want to think about it at the moment. Like Kim, she wanted to score a win off the “Alpha team” too. Seconds later, they were joined by their backup, who asked what happened to Zoey and Layla. When they were told, their reaction was identical to Layla’s from earlier.

“What the _fuck_ , new girl?”Kaitlyn snapped.

“Now’s not the time, not while we’re in enemy territory,” Kimberly intervened. “Mel fucked up, and she knows she fucked up. Right, Mel?”

The blonde girl gave a casual shrug, but other than that said nothing. So Kimberly went on: “Anyway, we’ll deal with that later, because right now we have a chance to win this. I sent Niko on ahead, and she should have the location of their flag soon.”

“Can we trust her?” Asked a girl named Camille. 

“More than you can trust the first group of scouts. Niko may not look it, but she’s got skills with a knife. She just hasn’t earned the real one yet because she’s… got other projects that interest her more than meeting the Sarge’s standards.”

Sure enough, right as Kimberly finished speaking, the freckled blonde showed up on the edge of the clearing to announce she’d spotted the enemy flag. “Amanda, Sunako and Lacey are guarding it,” she said. “I can’t see anyone else around. Looks like they may have sent whoever they have left into our territory.”

“So, it’s a race at this point,” said Kimberly. “Who can get the flag first? Okay, here’s what we do…”

She took a few moments to map out their plan and then they started off, Niko moving through the branches while the remaining five moved cautiously along the ground, using the sturdy trunks as cover. Since the woods had been around for millennia, there were many trees to use as hiding places.

“Only three people?” Melanie whispered to her roommate. “This’ll be cake.”

“I’d like to think that,” Kimberly said. “But all three of those girls are in Hartman’s upper class, while on our side, we’ve only got one girl who’s earned their knife: me.”

“Well, we _had_ Layla,” Kaitlyn grumbled, fixing the small blonde with a venomous stare.

“And now we don’t,” Melanie said with a shrug. “But who cares? We can do this without her.”

Kimberly raised a hand, pausing in her advance to glance up at the rich canopy of hemlock, cedar and spruce. She spotted Niko, and the girl gave her a series of hand signals. “Okay,” she whispered, bringing her gaze level again. “From this point on, no talking. Mel, stay close to me.”

“Why?”

“So I can keep an eye on you,” was the curt reply.

From that point on, the girls all moved silently, with only the occasional crackle of their sneaker soles on the carpet of dead pine needles at their feet. As they got nearer to their target, Kimberly gave a series of hand signals to the other three in their group, and those girls split off. Melanie assumed it was to try and pincer Regina’s jackals from behind.

Their forward movement slowed as they got closer, and then Kimberly moved into a crouch, motioned for Melanie to do the same. Through a crack in the bushes they were using as cover, they could see their prey surrounding the flag, a small scrap of blue cloth hanging in the green branches of a small, year-old sapling.

_Well, this worked before, so why not again?_ Melanie asked. She stood up suddenly, coming into view of the three opponents in the small clearing. Kimberly was about to ask what the hell was going on when the blonde girl shouted: “Hey, Amanda! Regina called. She wants to know why you’re not sucking her balls! It’s two-thirty!”

Amanda’s cheeks grew slightly red, but she stood her ground. “You think we don’t have our own watchers? I know how you got Regina. I’m not as stupid as her.”

“Yeah, but you’re uglier. Must be all the ball-sucking you do for her.”

The auburn-haired girl did not move, except to raise her rubber knife into a defensive stance. “Not gonna fall for it, runt!”

There was a brief pause as Melanie’s amber eyes locked with the other girl’s green. Then they heard a cry of frustration from Lacey, who’d just been stabbed in the back by the three girls flanking her and the other cronies. “You were saying?” Melanie asked with a malicious laugh.

Hearing Lacey go down was enough to spur Sunako into action. She ducked a jab from one girl that would have caught her in the neck, then did a leg sweep that knocked her opponent’s feet out from under her. As the girl was headed towards the ground, Sunako brought her own rubber blade down to stab them in the chest.

This spurred Melanie and Kimberly into action, and they leapt into the clearing to join their teammates. Amanda and Sunako were facing Kaitlyn and Camille, and so far the other two girls were dodging the attack, but it was clear they were back-pedaling. Camille managed to pivot her body to avoid a chest stab from Sunako, but she over-reached in her counter, allowing the Japanese girl to grab and nudge her in Amanda’s direction, whose own rubber blade caught her in a “fatal” spot. The redhead then let go of her in time to block a knife jab from Kaitlyn.

“You take Sunako,” Kimberly said to Melanie, and moved forward quickly to try and help Kaitlyn. Unfortunately, Amanda saw her coming out of the corner of her eye and turned to block the other girl’s downward swing. Kimberly tried to follow this up with a jab to the gut, but Amanda was again too quick. As she deflected the blow, she also pivoted to avoid a strike from Kaitlyn, then grabbed the other girl’s outstretched arm and flung her in Kimberly’s direction. The blonde managed to avoid hitting Kimberly with her knife, but the dark-haired girl was not as fortunate. As they tumbled to the ground, her fake blade caught Kaitlyn in the chest.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Kimberly said, trying to move Kaitlyn off her as gently as she could, despite the urgency of the situation. 

“It’s okay,” the other girl said. “I know _you_ didn’t do it on purpose.” Moving into a sitting position on the grass, she then held her rubber knife out to Kimberly. “Here, take it.”

The dark-haired girl hesitated for a split-second, then she accepted the weapon and got to her feet again. _Might as well take a page from Melanie’s book_ , she thought. _Landy only said that_ people _who get stabbed are out of the game. Didn’t say anything about their weapons._

So she got back to her feet with a blade in each hand. Amanda raised an eyebrow at that, and immediately looked around. Both of Kimberly’s fallen teammates would likely not give up their knives. Then her gaze moved to Lacey, sitting several yards away. Before she could call out to her, though, Kimberly was on her. 

The redhead was now the one backpedaling, using her single blade to try and block her opponent’s blows. Kimberly moved like a dancer, going high with one knife and low with the other. Though Amanda was slightly higher in skill than her, even she was starting to find blocking them to be taxing. 

“Lacey!” She managed to call, turning her head only slightly in the other girl’s direction. Lacey, sitting on the grass, raised her head slightly. 

“Your knife!” Her superior said, causing the dirty blonde-haired girl to raise her brows. 

“What about it?” She asked.

“Give it to me, you idiot!”

“But… I’m not allowed to get up.”

“Then toss it to me!” She then had to drop and roll to the left to avoid a two-pronged attack aimed at her neck and belly. She got halfway to her feet in time to avoid another “fatal” blow. Thankfully, Lacey had gotten the message at this point and tossed her weapon to Amanda, who snatched it out of midair by the handle.

Her green eyes flashed a cold light as she stood up straighter. “Nice try, runt, but two can play this game!”

Kimberly took a step backwards, but raised both her knives with a smirk of defiance. “You think I’m scared of you? I never have been! Let’s dance!”

* * *

Not far away, Melanie was cautiously circling Sunako. She’d been paying attention at gym class, knew that the girl was a cut above Janis, and so was being a bit more cautious, not wanting to make the first move. Then she chanced a look out of the corner of her eye over at Amanda and Kimberly, and saw how they were armed. It didn’t take her long to figure out where the extra knives had come from.

“Now why didn’t _I_ think of that?” she said out loud. “Excuse me a sec.” So saying, she dug the toe of her sneaker into the earth and kicked up, sending a clump of dirt and pine needles towards Sunako’s face. The other girl raised a hand to block it, but Melanie used that time to dash over to where Camille sat on the ground, and scoop up her knife. “Yoink!”

Now armed the same as Kimberly, she turned back to her opponent. “Okay, _now_ let’s do this.” She came forward swinging and jabbing, cockier now that she thought she had the advantage. But like the other Alphas, Sunako did not get where she was in Hartman’s class by slacking off. She deflected a series of blows from Melanie, watching for an opening. When she found it, she lashed out suddenly, striking Mel in the left wrist and causing her to drop one of her weapons.

“Can’t use that hand now, runt!” Sunako said with a smirk of triumph. 

“True, but I can use the rest!” Melanie tossed her other knife at the Japanese girl’s midsection, and Sunako had to swing downward rather quickly to deflect it, moving her knife arm towards the ground. The smaller blonde use that opportunity to lunge and swing with her left elbow, checking her opponent hard on the jaw. Sunako dropped to the ground, stunned for a few moments, but Melanie needed to find where she’d dropped her knife. 

Her amber eyes rapidly scanned the thick carpet of dirt, grass, and pine needles. She was so caught up in her search, she almost forgot about the other girl, until Sunako regained her feet and swung upwards with the knife. Melanie lurched backwards to avoid the swing, but would up losing her balance and falling flat on her back. 

A moment later, she felt an uncomfortable weight press cruelly against her chest as Sunako pinned her with the sole of her yellow sneaker. “Game over, runt!” She said with a sneer of triumph. She raised her rubber knife, but before she could bring it down, something flashed through the air and then she felt a sting on the side of her neck. 

She glanced down at her feet, saw a new rubber knife that had not been there before. Then she glanced up and saw Niko in the branches of a spruce on the edge of the clearing, grinning at the other girl. “Sorry, Sunako, but you’re out.”

“Shit!” She muttered under her breath, and then removed her foot from her opponent and sat down on the grass.

“Use my knife, Mel!” Niko called down at her. Melanie glanced over at Kimberly and Amanda, still going toe to toe, and nodded. She grabbed the weapon and sprang to her feet.

“We got this!” Melanie called over to the freckled blonde. “Get the flag and book it back to our side!”

Niko pointed down at the blue scrap of cloth tucked into her skirt. “Way ahead of you!” She said, and started off through the branches.

While this had been going on, Kimberly was trying to hold her own against her opponent, but she was starting to tire. Her smaller size made it easy to dodge Amanda, but the other girl had better reach. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep it up.

Amanda thought that victory was assured… until she and her opponent were turned in such a way that she could see Sunako sitting on the grass. “What the hell?” She half-whispered. This took her mind out of the game for a moment, long enough for Kimberly to strike one of her knife hands, incapacitating it. A moment later, Melanie was on the other side of her, a knife in her right hand.

Amanda’s green eyes flicked in the direction of the young sapling, saw that the flag was already gone. Unlike Regina, the redhead possessed enough tact to not let her anger get the best of her. She knew when to quit, and so dropped her knife and sat down on the grass. “I give up,” she said.

“Good move,” said Melanie. “I’m surprised you had it in you.” A moment later, there were two blasts from the whistle, indicating that Niko had made it back to the Red Team’s territory. The game was over.

“Thank God!” Sunako said, as she and the other girls all got to their feet. Melanie and Kimberly were already on their way out of the clearing, wanting to put distance between themselves and Regina’s cronies. Amanda did not follow, but called after them: “Don’t think this is over, runt!”

“What else is new?” Melanie said with a roll of her eyes. Her roommate was strangely quiet. The blonde raised her hand to Kimberly. “Hey… we did it!”

“Hell, yeah, we did!” The two girls high-fived each other, but Kimberly’s voice made it seem like she was distracted by something.

“Don’t get _too_ excited,” Melanie said. “You might embarrass yourself.”

“Sorry, Mel. I’m… still thinking about what happened earlier. You know that Landy might take issue with that.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly break a rule, since there was no rule that says who you can’t stab.” 

“Oh, gee, thanks, that makes me feel _so_ much better,” grumbled Layla, who’d fallen into step behind them. This was echoed a moment later by Zoey, who’d also joined the queue. After that, they fell silent until they emerged into their own territory, where the rest of the team was assembled.

Kimberly made her way through the other girls, exchanging high-fives with a few of them, until she got to Niko, who was still holding the enemy flag. “Awesome job!” She said, and the two slapped skin.

“Yeah, that _was_ a pretty sweet strategy,” Melanie added. It seemed to her that Kimberly had sent Janine and the other three up into the trees first as bait, to lull the other side into a false sense of security before breaking out the _real_ scout. But she kept quiet about this, as several of the girls were giving her dirty looks.

Before they could say anything else, they were joined in the clearing by Joan Landy and Mr. Hartman. The girls all gathered in a circle around them, and Joan waited until the opposing team began to join that circle before speaking.

“That was a very impressive game, girls,” the matriarch said. “Probably one of the best ones you’ve played so far. You’re clearly learning your lessons well.”

“Most of them,” Hartman spoke in his usual gruff tone, which sounded like old leather and gravel. “One of the key points of this day is to teach you ladies teamwork.” His gray eyes narrowed as they focused on a certain petite blonde. “I wouldn’t exactly call stabbing your own teammates a good example of that quality, would you, Melanie?”

“ _You_ may not, sir,” Melanie answered. “But I do. I mean, by taking them out of the game, they still helped me and Kim achieve our goal. So technically it _was_ teamwork.”

“And would you be so quick to sacrifice your own men like that on the battlefield?” The gym teacher growled at her.

“It wasn’t a sacrifice, because they’re still alive,” the blonde said with a laugh. “None of this was real. It’s just a game, not a war.”

Hartman sucked in a sharp breath, and grew slightly red around the ears. “Ms. Landy, I recommend throwing her in Solitary for the night.”

“But I didn’t cheat, sir. There was nothing in the rules that said I couldn’t do that.”

Joan couldn’t help but give a small chuckle. “Well, you certainly do keep us on your toes with that, don’t you, child? Something tells me this won’t be the first time we need to revise the rules of the game, because of you. But just because it’s not real this time, doesn’t mean it won’t be real later in your life. That is a lesson you must learn, but this time I don’t think Solitary is the answer. We’ll come up with something else.”

If it was detention, Melanie could handle that. So she nodded and simply said: “Yes, ma’am.”

“But in the meantime, we’ll need to gather things up here and head back to the school for the ceremony and for dinner. I see Niko has the blue flag, but where is the red?”

“I’ll get it,” Melanie said, got to her feet, and walked a short distance away. Then she got back down on her knees and began to dig at a patch of soil and dead pine needles. This led to shouts of protest from the other team, as the small blonde quickly dug back up the flag from the hole she’d first buried it in.

“That’s cheating!” Amanda shouted.

“They should be disqualified, Ms. Landy!” Regina said. 

“Now she _should_ get thrown in the hole,” grumbled Jennica.

The other team began to protest as well, but all of it was soon cut short by the shrill blast of the whistle tearing through the woods, sending birds scattering from the branches overhead and bringing both sides to silence. Joan Landy’s gaze was once again like ice. “Explain this, Melanie.”

“What’s there to explain?” She answered with a shrug. “The rules didn’t say this wasn’t allowed. They just said to hide the flag on your own side. Didn’t say it had to be in sight.”

“I see.” For a while Joan was silent, her poker face flawless. Then she said: “I’ll need to give this some thought on the way back to the school. So for now, everyone on their feet. We have a small hike ahead of us.”

And so the girls all began the walk back through the shady evergreens and the summer afternoon towards the familiar structure of their school. Most of them kept their distance from Melanie, which was okay with the blonde girl. Only Kimberly seemed willing to walk by her, but even she didn’t say much, still looking preoccupied by something. At one point, she stooped down to tie her shoe, and told Mel she would catch up.

Once her roommate was out of sight, Kimberly moved as silently as she could towards Regina. “Have you got it?” She whispered.

“Yeah,” the other girl answered. “We’ll hit her at the cookout. You know what to do?”

“Of course I do,” Kim said, her tone almost defensive.

“You’re not gonna flake on us, are you? Because you know what will happen.”

“I’m aware. And I won’t flake. I’ll do my part.”

“Better get back to her then, before she sees us talking.”

“Right,” Kimberly said with a nod, then went to go look for her friend.

Arriving back at the school, the girls milled around on the quad for a bit while Joan discussed recent events with a few of the other faculty. Finally, the headmistress called them to order, and there was a minute of scrambling as they assembled into rank and file.

“As Melanie pointed out, the rules technically don’t say that the flag needs to be hidden where the players can see it. They will be revised because of that oversight. But because the Blue Team did not even have a _chance_ to try and win, this year’s contest has been declared a draw.”

This was met with protests from the Red Team, but Joan swiftly raised a hand, which silenced them before they really started. She went on to say: “For her conduct today, Melanie will be punished. I’ll allow her to participate in the cookout for dinner tonight, but every morning for the next week, she is to report to Nikolai at six AM sharp for kitchen chores. And those chores will _not_ count towards her weekly allowance.” 

Several of the students nodded, especially those on the Red Team. Joan allowed them that before fixing her ice-blue glare on the small blonde. “Is that understood, Melanie?”

“Yes, Ms. Landy,” Melanie said, managing to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. No point in risking Joan giving her any more slave labor than she’d already been assigned. 

“Very well, then,” Joan went on. “And with that out of the way, it’s time to begin the awards ceremony.”

The ceremony also took place on the Quad, so Melanie was spared having to hear complaints from the other girls right away. For the most part, her mind wandered as the bronze, silver and gold winners were announced for each event, but she clapped along with the other girls when necessary (though her applause was sincere when Kimberly was given the gold medal for Archery).

She herself accepted the silver medal for the Hurdles, which came at the price of having to shake Amanda’s hand. “Way to cost your team their win, runt,” the redhead whispered.

“It’s not like you won, either,” Melanie whispered back. “That’s how draws work. At least, most people with a functioning brain know that.”

Amanda had no response to that, instead turned and started back towards her seat on the grass, which put Melanie on the defensive. She remembered what happened the last time an Alpha had just walked away from a possible confrontation. But she couldn’t think about it now, and so took her own seat.

By the time the awards had all been given out, it was a little after five, and Melanie was famished. Halfway through the ceremony, the quad had started to fill with a pleasant smell of charcoal smoke, mixed with cooking meat. It had been ages since she’d eaten anything prepared on a grill (a dine and dash at some barbecue place, since none of her foster parents ever cooked with fire), and it was making her mouth water. Of course, it was having the same effect on the rest of the girls. More than one wore an impatient look, silently wishing Joan would get on with it and finish her closing speech.

“It’s apparent from your performance today that you girls are clearly learning your lessons well,” the headmistress finally got to the end. “Thank you all for making this the most… interesting Field Day so far. Now, I’m sure you’re all hungry after so much activity. So let’s all go to dinner.”

Those words were met with hearty applause, and the girls began to get up from their seats on the grass. Melanie started in the direction of the dining hall, but then felt Kimberly’s hand on her shoulder. “We’re not going there, today, Mel. The dinner after Field Day is always outside, when the weather permits.” 

So the blonde girl followed her roommate over to where gym class was usually held. Several blankets had been spread out on the tilled dirt of the practice field, and the kitchen staff had set up several buffet tables. Melanie was quick to spot the source of that heavenly smell: a row of grills that they’d been cooking the meat on.

The students all began to claim seats on the blankets. None of them were speaking to Melanie, which suited her just fine, as it meant that her and Kimberly had their own blanket. Kim asked Niko if she wanted to sit with them, but the freckled blonde said she would rather sit by herself, to review her notes for something she was working on. 

Benches and tables had been set up on the edge of the field for the faculty. This time Joan led them in grace, which was also fine with Melanie. Then, at long last, they were allowed to line up for the buffet.

The small blonde didn’t think anything could have topped the meals on Christmas Day, but this came close. Nikolai and his staff had grilled hamburgers, hot dogs, _and_ chicken. There were also trays of the usual burger fixings (iceberg lettuce leaves, sliced beefsteak tomato, pickles, etc.) and the sides one would expect from any summer cookout.

Melanie selected a burger and a drumstick, took a large scoop of creamy potato salad, another of vinegary coleslaw, and a buttered ear of corn, which was somehow still hot. Joan was even allowing them to have soda with the meal. After grabbing a can of Dr. Pepper from the cooler, she high-tailed it back to her seat, eager to dig in.

Just as she was lifting her burger to her mouth, she heard Kimberly curse under her breath. “Damn, I forgot to grab a soda. Hey, Mel, can you grab one for me?”

“Why can’t you get it yourself?” She grumbled.

“Because I just got comfy. And also, I think you owe me _that_ much for costing our team the win. Now… please?”

The small blonde set her burger back down and got to her feet. “Fine.” Then she stomped back towards the buffet.

* * *

Over on another blanket, Regina and her crew watched Melanie get up, and leave Kimberly by herself. “Now’s your chance,” she said to Janis. “Move.”

* * *

When Melanie got back to the blanket a few minutes later, she saw Janis walking away. “What’d _she_ want?” She asked Kimberly, sitting back down and passing her the can of Dr. Pepper.

The dark-haired girl shrugged, and took a bite of her hot dog. “Oh, you know: just delivering the message that Regina wants to talk to me later. Probably about the whole stabbing thing.”

Melanie gave an absent nod, picked up her burger, and finally started tucking in. “Not bad,” she said, her mouth still full of the first bite. “I’m amazed he didn’t burn it.”

* * *

“What the fuck?”

The Alpha girls had been watching their nemesis eat for a few minutes now. Melanie was almost halfway through it, and showed no signs of distress. Regina glanced down at the jar of scotch bonnet peppers that still sat in Janis’s lap. “You loaded her burger with those, right?” She asked her lackey.

“Yeah, I swear I did.” Janis raised her unbroken hand with thumb and pinky curled in Scout’s Honor. “At least a half-dozen.”

They watched Melanie take another bite, then raise one golden eyebrow, after which she kept on chewing. “What’s going on here, Gina?” Amanda asked. “I thought you said Kimberly told you the runt was allergic to these.” She grabbed the jar from Janis and began to skim over the label. “And according to Des, they’re crazy hot. Like, at least a thousand times hotter than a jalapeno.”

“She did,” Regina growled, starting to get annoyed. 

“Flames should be shooting out her ears by now,” Sunako noted.

“Her ears, if we’re lucky,” Lacey quipped.

Regina started to get red in the face, which was what Melanie should have been doing by now, among other things. “It’s obvious what happened here,” she snapped. “Janis fucked it up.”

“No I didn’t,” the other girl protested. “I put these fucking things right on her burger. Like you said.”

“No, you messed up,” the Alpha grumbled, and rose to her feet. “I’m gonna get to the bottom of this.” She then started off to where Kim and Mel were happily eating.

* * *

Melanie was about to raise the burger to her mouth for another bite when she saw the shadow fall across the blanket. She looked up to see Regina, arms folded across her chest. “Can I help you?” She asked.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Do we _have_ to settle up now, Regina? We’re trying to eat here.”

“How’s the burger, runt?” The taller girl asked Mel, ignoring Kimberly.

“Not bad. Considering who cooked it, it’s actually edible.”

“Really? Mind if I have a bite?”

Melanie gave a bored yawn. “If it’ll get you out of my face, then sure, help yourself.” She held the burger up to Regina, who snatched it from her and took a bite…

...Then immediately tried to suck in air as an explosion of intense, painful heat overwhelmed her mouth. Breathing in may not have been the smartest action with a mouth full of food, as evidenced a moment later when the bite of incredibly hot, scotch bonnet-laced burger became lodged in her throat. Regina sank to her knees, clutching her neck and coughing.

Melanie was on her feet now, standing over the taller girl for the first time since she’d arrived at the school. “Were you trying to prank me, bitch? Because if you were, you should have paid closer attention to a cardinal rule: know your enemy.” She started to circle Regina now, hands clapped behind her back. “If you _did_ , then you’d know that… well, it’s just the damnedest thing, but spicy food has no effect on me whatsoever.”

Regina was starting to turn purple. “Hey, Mel,” Kimberly said. “Maybe we ought to…”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it,” Mel told her. “Just gimme a minute.” She then turned her attention back to her rival: “I have no idea why, but I’m totally immune. Least I think I am. I’ve never found a pepper or sauce hot enough to burn me. I feel nothing when I eat them. Which is obviously more than can be said for _you_.”

Regina could do nothing to reply except make small, strangled coughing noises, and Melanie laughed. “What? You’ll have to speak up. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“Landy on your six, Mel,” Kimberly said, interrupting any further mockery the small blonde had cooking. She turned her head, saw the matriarch walking towards them, so she raised her hand and started to slap Regina on the back.

After three smacks, the food flew out of her mouth onto the blanket, and Regina began to suck in air like a drowning victim. Not that this was much better. The seeds in the pepper had left their imprint on her tracheal tissue, so for the next hour or so, the action of inhaling would make it feel like her lungs were full of fire.

Joan Landy arrived to find Regina on her knees, tears in her eyes as she tried to breathe without pain, and Melanie standing over her. “What’s going on here?” She asked.

“Regina was choking, Ms Landy,” Kim explained, pointing to the piece of half-chewed burger on the blanket. “Melanie just saved her.”

“I see.” Joan’s eyes flicked down to the morsel that moments ago had been stuck in Regina’s throat. “Well, that was very impressive, Melanie, keeping a cool head in an emergency. And you knew just what to do.”

Melanie shrugged. “It was no big deal, Ms. Landy. I saw it on TV once.”

“Regina,” Joan said to the taller blonde, who was now on her feet, still sucking in air. “Don’t you think you should thank Melanie?”

Regina looked at Melanie with venom in her eyes, despite the fire in her throat. She tried to make words, but her mouth parts were still extremely sensitive. So all she could manage was a few coughs, and then she threw up all over Joan Landy’s very expensive alligator boots.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, child,” Joan muttered and took a few steps backwards. Then she looked around the blankets until she spotted Regina’s crew and called over to them. “Amanda, will you please escort your friend to the infirmary? And be sure to bring a bag or plate with you, in case she loses it again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Amanda trudged over to them, took the still-gasping Regina by the hand, and started to guide her off the practice field. Several of the girls were glancing over at Kim and Mel’s blanket, wondering what had just happened. A few were on their feet to try and get a better look.

Then Joan Landy cleared her throat. “The situation is under control, ladies. There is nothing to be alarmed about. Please enjoy your dinner.” She then started back towards her table, trying to discreetly shake some of the vomit from her shoes while she walked.

After she was a healthy distance away, both Melanie and her roommate started to laugh. It took them a minute before they were able to breathe again, and then Melanie wiped her eyes and reached for her chicken. “Wow… so that wasn’t what I was expecting, especially after the roach thing. What the hell could have given her that idea? I mean, I’m lucky she got it, but still, I’m curious.”

“I gotta confess something, Mel.”

The blonde girl was munching on her drumstick, and paused when she saw how thoughtful (and slightly nervous) Kim’s expression had become. “Um… okay.”

She took a deep breath. “Here goes: The night you went to Solitary, Regina came to my room and offered me a spot in her pack _if_ I helped her find a new weakness of yours she could exploit. And I _may_ have told her that you’re very allergic to spicy food.”

Mel’s brow furrowed. “But… I’m not. You know that.”

“Yeah, but Regina didn’t know that. I set her up.”

“Wait… you had a chance at Easy Street, and… you gave that up… for me?”

The dark-haired girl gave a small laugh. “Of course. What sort of friend would I be if I left you to the mercy of those bitches?”

Melanie was so startled she almost “pulled a Regina” at that point, but managed to swallow what was in her mouth without choking. After wearing the same stunned expression for a few more moments, she smiled at Kimberly, an actual warm smile without any malice behind it. “Um… thank you, Kim.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“You always say that, and honestly, it’s annoying. Well, this time, you’re wrong. Wait here.” She got up and walked over to the blanket that was occupied by Sunako, Lacey and Janis. They all fixed her with the same cold stare.

“The fuck do _you_ want?” Janis growled. 

“Well, since you ladies clearly won’t be needing these anymore, I thought I’d relieve you of them.” Showing no fear, she reached down and snatched up the jar of scotch bonnets. Though the other three looked like they _wanted_ to make a move, none did. Not even when Melanie grabbed Regina’s pudding cup with her other hand. “I figure she won’t mind, since she can’t eat it. Well, enjoy your dinner. Lemme know if you need a _hand_ with anything, Janis.” The small blonde cackled to herself as she turned and walked back to where Kimberly sat.

“Here, you want this?” She asked as she sat back down, holding out the pudding to the other girl. “I hate butterscotch.”

Kimberly smiled and took the dessert. “Thanks, Mel. I love it.”

“Yeah, because you’re weird.” She held her hand out, and the two roommates exchanged a high five. The smile didn’t leave Melanie’s face as she pulled a scotch bonnet pepper from the jar, bit it off at the stem, and started crunching with obvious pleasure.

* * *

Later that evening, after dinner had ended, Kimberly was in one of the shower stalls of their dorm bathroom, wringing out her long raven hair, getting it as dry as she could before she went back to her bedroom. Unlike Melanie, she didn’t have much of a problem showering with other girls present, but today, she didn’t feel like using the locker room with the rest of them, and had wanted some time to herself as she rinsed off the dirt from a very long, but rewarding day.

Now she was finishing up. Satisfied that her hair was dry enough, she grabbed her bathrobe off a nearby hook, donned it, draped her towel over her shoulders, and left the bathroom. She glanced through an open bedroom door as she walked down the hallway, seeing the sunlight streaming in through the window. Although it was almost seven-thirty, it was still bright as day, and the sun would not actually set until after lights-out.

Kimberly remembered how Melanie complained about that, when the days had started to get longer, much longer than she was used to experiencing in summers down in California. “You’ll get used to it,” was all the dark-haired girl had to say to her. “By mid-July, you’ll have no problems falling asleep.”

She arrived back at their bedroom to find Melanie sitting on her bed, flipping through a comic she’d gotten through Des, something called “Johnny the Homicidal Maniac.” The blonde looked up and smiled again, as Kimberly entered.

“I glanced at that comic once,” Kimberly remarked. “And you say _I’m_ weird.”

“Yeah, well, this still beats anime,” Melanie said with a laugh.

Kimberly was readying another retort while she turned to her dresser and pulled the drawer open, looking for sleepwear. But she paused when she saw what was on her dresser-top. Among her collection of action figures was a new one, still in its packaging. One of the characters from “Bubble Gum Crisis” that she hadn’t picked up yet. Confused, she picked it up and faced her roommate again. “Hey, Mel, did you see who left this?”

The girl’s cheeks reddened a little at the edges. “Um… yeah. It was me.”

“You?”

“Yeah, I… ordered it through Des. Asked him to keep it a secret.”

Now it was Kimberly’s turn to furrow her brow in confusion. “What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, well, um… you… got a better grade on the book report than I did. And remember, we agreed that if you did, I’d buy you an anime figure.”

The smile was back on Kimberly’s face, and she sat down on her bed. “But we never actually shook on that bet, Mel. You said you didn’t want to.”

The small blonde’s cheeks grew more flushed. “Well, maybe I felt like doing this because of… all the training you’ve been giving me. And all the other stuff you did.”

Kim’s smile grew wider. “You didn’t have to do this, Mel. But… thank you.”

“I know that. But I felt like it. And… you’re welcome.” There was silence between the two of them for a moment. Then the blonde set her comic down and turned on her side to face the other girl. “Hey, Kim… I’ve been wondering. When Regina made you the offer, you could have just said ‘no’. Not that I care, but… why go to all that trouble to set her up?”

Those dark eyes seemed to turn a shade darker. “Well, two reasons. First, she insulted me. I mean, she and her pack treated me like shit before you came along, and then suddenly she waltzes into my bedroom and tries to pretend that never happened? No, fuck her. And also: maybe I wanted to see her pay for that prank she pulled on you. Because she hurt my friend. And I gotta say, what happened today could not have gone better.”

“No, it really couldn’t.” The two girls laughed again at the memory, and for a while they were silent again. Kimberly opened her new figure and found a spot for it on the dresser, then she changed into shorts and an over-sized brown nightshirt, and started to braid her hair. She was halfway through when Melanie spoke again.

“Hey, Kim?”

“Yeah?”

Melanie was looking at her again, wearing an expression Kim had never seen on her before. “I… was about four years old. It was my first foster home. Like any kid, when I was bad, I was put in timeout. Except they didn’t… make me sit in a chair. My fake dad… would toss me into a crawl space. It was… pitch black in there… with a dirt floor… it smelled like old vegetables and piss…” Melanie’s eyes were shut now, she was breathing more quickly. “And there was a nest of roaches in there. I couldn’t _see_ them, but I… could always _FEEL_ them… crawling on me… and… I could never stop them…” Her arms were tucked to her chest now, hands clutching her shoulders with fingers curled into hooks. “I screamed… I cried… but they were always there… I could sometimes squash one or two, but… this only seemed to get them more excited, and… and they… they…”

She seemed close to hyperventilating, so Kimberly reached over and took one of Melanie’s hands in both of hers. “It’s all right, Melanie. You’re not there. You’re here now. If it’s making you upset, you don’t have to keep talking about it. I get what you’re saying, and I understand why you don’t like bugs. And… I appreciate you sharing this. Thank you for trusting me.”

Melanie opened her eyes, and the two girls shared a brief hug. Then the blonde sat up a little straighter on the bed. “Okay, enough Hallmark stuff. Let’s go down to the rec room.”

“Why?”

“Because, I have something I wanna show you.”

Kimberly laughed a little. “Um… what?”

“You’ll see. I signed up for some TV time a week ago.” Melanie got up from her bed. “Now come on!”

“Mel, I have to finish braiding my hair!”

“Finish it downstairs. I managed to find a copy of ‘the Princess Bride,’ and we’re going to watch it, because it’s hilarious, and you’re cheating yourself if you’ve never seen it.”

Kimberly smiled, and got up as well. “Okay, but this movie better be as funny as you say it is.”

“We can make a bet if you want,” Mel quipped, and the two girls laughed as they started in the direction of the stairs.

* * *

Shortly after lights out, there was a small gathering in Joan Landy’s office consisting of her, Hartman and Ms. Wallace. Joan’s assistant was also there, pouring champagne into three flutes. Through the window behind them, the sun was finally starting to drift down below the tops of the evergreens, though it would be another hour before it set.

“Leave the bottle, hon,” Ms. Wallace said to Candace. The younger woman looked over at Joan, who gave a small head shake. “Put it back on ice,” the headmistress ordered. “But pour a little for yourself, if you like, dear.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Candace said. After passing out the full glasses to the faculty members present, she picked up the bottle and left the office, shutting the door behind her.

Joan picked up her flute and raised her glass in a toast. “Well, Edna, Sergeant… that’s another Field Day in the books.”

“Well done, as always,” Hartman said.

“And the most interesting one we’ve had to date,” Wallace chimed in.

The three clinked together and then drank. Joan ran one finger around the rim of her glass, deep in thought for a second. Then she said: “You _are_ right about that. This was Melanie’s first Field Day, and already we’ll need to make more than one revision to the rule-book. Makes me wonder what that clever child has in store for us next year.”

“Permission to speak candidly, ma’am,” Hartman spoke up.

Joan nodded, sipped her drink. “I always welcome that from you, Sergeant.”

“I think you were too lenient on that girl. She should have been thrown in Solitary.”

“Yes, I considered it. But something tells me that young Melanie is used to isolation. So it wouldn’t really be a punishment for her. She’s a loner… she takes after her mother in that regard.”

“Even her mother knows when it’s necessary to work with other people,” Wallace pointed out.

“Indeed,” said Joan. “But she also wouldn’t hesitate to do what Melanie did, if she felt it would accomplish her mission.”

“Careful not to say that around the Director,” Hartman warned. “You know that he has a different goal in mind.”

“I’m aware of my responsibilities, Sergeant. Melanie _will_ be made to conform to our ideals, but… it would be a shame to lose that spark of ingenuity. If only we could find some way to mold that to meet our standards…” Joan swirled the champagne in her glass. “But, then, it _is_ all or nothing. At the moment, we have other issues. The games today _have_ shown us how much each girl’s skills are improving. Melanie is progressing in her training, but she still has a lot to learn.”

Wallace drained her glass and set it on Joan’s desk. “Ms. Landy, if you don’t mind, I gotta get back to the dorms to check on the girls.”

Joan raised her glass at the other woman. “Of course. Good work today, Edna.”

The beefy woman nodded at them both. “Ma’am. Sergeant.”

After she was gone, Joan Landy called her assistant back in to top off hers and Hartman’s drinks. “Now, then, Sergeant,” she told her colleague. “You are correct. Melanie _does_ need to be taught a lesson. But the problem is that Solitary isn’t punishment for her, not like for the other girls. I think another exercise is in order.”

Hartman nodded. “I know what you’re suggesting, ma’am. Melanie needs to go camping?”

Joan returned the nod. “It seems the best way to get her to work with others. I’ll leave the details in your very capable hands.”

“I’ll take care of it, ma’am.”

“I have no doubts about that, old friend.” Joan smiled, and raised her glass for another toast. “Young Melanie is about to get a crash course. But sometimes, being thrown headfirst into something is the best way to learn.”

“Absolutely,” Hartman said, and clinked his glass to hers.

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

  
  


So, I found a handy inflation calculator in my Google searches. According to my research, a 1.86 ounce Snickers Bar is $1.39 today, which translates into eighty-six cents in 1997. From there, I just added in what the sales tax for Washington state appeared to be in that time.

  
  


I also want to point out that Des is the same age as the girls at Landy’s school. Doesn’t make him any less of a creep, but I did want it known there is no sizable age gap between them, lest anyone think I was being _too_ skeezy with him.

  
  


For the Archery event, the “wimpy safety gear” Melanie refers to are the guards that most schools make you wear on your forearm and fingers to avoid getting burned by the bowstring. Is anyone else old enough to remember that safety gear?

  
  


“Stay frosty” is a line from the 1986 James Cameron classic “Aliens.” Melanie has seen a LOT of R-Rated movies for a girl her age, and that’s mainly because growing up in a lot of broken foster homes, TV became one of her only “babysitters”.

  
  


I feel there’s some delicious irony in Melanie saying she’d never want to be team captain. Basically because it’s my HC she was the captain of the Anti-Kyokugen Team in KoF XI. I don’t know if SNK has ever confirmed anything, but everything I’ve looked at says that the team was largely Malin’s idea, hence the reason for my HC.

  
  


I didn’t even realize this until chatting with a friend, but apparently the sun sets much later in summer in the Pacific Northwest. Which, honestly, will make certain parts of this story more interesting.

  
  


In case you were curious, a Jalapeno is only 2,500 to 3,500 Scoville (the unit used to measure how hot a pepper is). Scotch bonnets can be as hot as 350,000 Scoville.

  
  


And that’s all for now. This was my longest chapter to date, and I thought about splitting it into two, but it’s been over three months since I updated, so I felt I owed you all a nice, meaty chapter. The next one should hopefully not take as long to get out. Thank you to Illyrilex for helping me proofread the second draft of this. I wanted this to look as neat as possible, but due to its length I wanted another set of eyes to look it over.

  
  


Until next time, please feel free to review if you’re so inclined. There’s a lot to talk about in this one. ( ;

  
  
  
  



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